The Art of Compromise
by lisehrin
Summary: Sometimes you have to give a little to get a lot. Booth & Brennan learn how to navigate their relationship in a pre-season 7 world.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This fic takes place anywhere before the end of Season 6. Think of it as a choose your own adventure where you supply your own when and why and how B&B got together. Maybe Sweets never wrote his book & encouraged Booth to gamble; maybe Brennan didn't go to the Maluku Islands, Maybe Hannah didn't happen, maybe someone else did. Maybe Booth never drew a line. Maybe Brennan stayed during Booth's recovery from his coma. Maybe she said yes when he asked to give 'this' a try. But then again, maybe what we saw on the screen was exactly what happened. This story isn't about how they got together – it's how they learn to stay together.

Disclaimer: The characters of Bones belong to a long list of people – not one of which is me.

(…...)

"_Once upon a time there were two countries, at war with each other. In order to make peace after many years of conflict, they decided to build a bridge across the ocean. _

_But because they never learned each other's language properly, they could never agree on the details, so the two halves of the bridge they started to build never met. _

_To this day the bridge extends far into the ocean from both sides, and simply ends half way, miles in the wrong direction from the meeting point. _

_And the two countries are still at war." - Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration_

**1.**

"It's not supposed to be this difficult."

He briefly flicked his eyes away from the road to where she sat beside him. She was angled away from him; her gaze focused off through the passenger window. Neither of them had spoken in over half an hour.

In spite of his own similar train of thought he countered, "It's not supposed to be easy either." He heard her shift and once again looked toward her.

"Booth," she chided but said nothing further for a long moment, as she tried to find the appropriate words before continuing. Their eyes met for half a second before skittering away. "We said we wouldn't let this affect our work."

"We aren't."

She turned fully toward him and glared. He could feel the force of it without looking away from the road, heard the exasperation in her voice. "We fought at a crime scene."

"It wasn't really a fight."

"We were angry and yelled at each other with increasing volume until Mr. Vasiri developed the courage to remind us that we were being inappropriate and unprofessional. In my novel, that is the very definition of a fight."

He considered correcting her noun choice to lighten the moment but decided against it a second later. "We were bickering; we always bicker."

She didn't take the bait. "No. This was a fight. Even I am aware of the difference Booth."

"Okay. It was a fight. Happy?" His voice became harder with the last word.

Her voice was toneless. "Not particularly." She shifted back to the window and he sighed.

"Bones. Hey. It's okay. Couples fight. It's normal." Despite the fact he was driving, he willed her to look toward him and meet his eyes. Something in his mind insisted that it would all be okay if she did that. She didn't move. "Bones?"

"This was different Booth. We weren't merely annoyed with each other; I was angry at you; I felt an intense dislike of you today."

"What're you saying Bones? That you don't wanna be with me anymore because of one stupid fight?"

"No, don't do that. Don't place words in my mouth Booth. What I'm saying is that lately, despite my desire to remain in a committed monogamous relationship with you, I haven't been desirous of spending time with you. And by your conduct I can only extrapolate that you are experiencing a similar reaction."

"What?"

"You've been avoiding me at work in addition to avoiding me during our personal time. We promised each other that our being in an intimate relationship would not affect our working partnership, but it has."

He scoffed, "I haven't been avoiding you; you've been avoiding me."

"You haven't been to the lab at all despite the fact that we are in the middle of an investigation. You've given me two rain checks?" She furrowed her brow and looked at him for confirmation at her word choice and at his nod continued, "for lunch and we haven't been in the same proximity at night to discuss supper or breakfast. You chose not to inform me when you went to run down a lead yesterday and followed it up by letting Sweets tell me of the interrogation after the fact." She paused for a breath and looked at him again, questioningly, "What is it that have I done that constitutes avoiding you?"

"You've been all squirrely lately. You won't take my calls! In fact I tried to call you about the lead…"

Brennan scoffed. "Perhaps if you'd tried my cell at least once, or left a message?"

Booth kept talking, ignoring her comment, "... and reschedule lunch with you three times but you were 'busy,' at least according to Angela, and Cam, and whatever intern of the week I talked to last time. You made up the rule about staying over during a case, not me." Resentment colored his voice.

"We need to remain professional," she reminded him again. "Staying over..." She paused as she contemplated completing her thought. No, she didn't want to dwell on this issue. He was right, it was her rule, albeit one she was beginning to dislike. She explained, "I have had three bodies to examine, not counting the one discovered today. The damage to the bones was extensive and I have been working additional hours to ensure that you have the information you need to complete the investigation..."

"Bones…" he tried to interject, but she continued.

"I apologize for not waiting in my office in anticipation of your call, but I felt my time was better utilized studying the remains, especially after you made it clear that my presence was not desired in the field. And I have called you numerous times, only for you to tell me that it wasn't a good time."

"You knew why I couldn't talk to you. The new ADD's been taking interest in this case and keeps making all these meetings for 'status updates'." His eyebrows punctuated the end of his sentence.

"No. I found out later why you could not talk to me. I was not informed of the situation or the meetings so I did not know it was not a good time to attempt to engage you in conversation." She spoke calmly and deliberately, attempting to mask the hurt his actions had caused.

"I…" Her reactions were starting to make more sense. He side checked his mirrors and pulled into a rest stop. After putting the car in park and turning off the engine, he reached for her hand. "Bones… I didn't... I was just …." He sighed, "I'm sorry for blowing you off."

She turned her hand and squeezed his. "We can't keep doing this. I know I am not very adept at relationships and that I keep making mistakes, but I am trying to learn." She stared at their hands, entwined, unwilling to make any more eye contact. Her thumb caressed his knuckles. "I know my actions were in error last weekend and that my attempt to make amends was inadequate to you. But at the time I did not realize how it would impact you."

"It didn't 'impact' me Bones, it hurt me. You disappointed me and my son and didn't bother to apologize."

"Booth, I did not intend to hurt or disappoint either of you. If you had told me that you were depending on me I would have tried to make alternate arrangements."

"That's just it Bones, I thought I had. I told you what we were doing and I told you that I'd like it if you came. I didn't think I needed to spell it out for you."

"I told you that I had other commitments that day," she countered. "I told you I'd _try_ to be there, not that I _would_ be there. You were the one who made unfounded promises to Parker."

"Yeah, but you didn't call or anything! You just didn't show up. I was worried!"

She disentangled her hand from his as his pitch and agitation increased. "Booth, this is not resolving anything. Perhaps you should resume driving so that I can go back to the lab and you can continue avoiding me."

He slammed his palm on the driving wheel, "Fine!" Roughly flicking on the engine, he pulled the shaft out of park and drove off.

They did not speak again for the remainder of the trip.


	2. Chapter 2

"_I can accept anything, except what seems to be the easiest for most people: the half-way, the almost, the just-about, the in-between." - Ayn Rand_

**_2._**

It was late and the office was quiet, illuminated only by the light pouring out of his office. She hesitated in the doorway, waiting for the metaphorical butterflies to settle in her stomach, watching him stare at the document on his desk for several long moments before lightly tapping on the frame.

His head bounced up in surprise before looking down at the paper again. Although he gave her no indication as to whether she was welcome, she entered and sat down across from him without speaking. The silence stretched between them.

He was the first to break. "What are you doing here?" His tone of voice was almost dejected.

She straightened her shoulders and continued to stare at his bowed head. "I thought you were willing to work with me on this."

He finally met her stare and gazed back with equal force. "I am! I feel like I've been doing all the heavy lifting!"

"I don't….wait. You feel as if you've been contributing more than I have to our relationship?" She tried to clarify, to understand. She hated this about herself; only moments into an emotional conversation and she was already floundering.

"Haven't I?" He shot back.

"I…" She paused in consideration. "I have been relying on you to teach me how to be in a relationship, yes. We both agreed when we started this that my instincts were poorly developed and that you would provide me guidance on how to proceed correctly. So yes, you may have been playing a greater role in our relationship than I have, to date. However, I believe that over time I have been increasing my contribution to our personal interactions."

He shifted his gaze briefly to the wrinkle forming on her brow and shook his head. "Yeah Bones, we agreed. But it's been months and I just. I feel like I'm butting against a brick wall. I know it's hard for you, but I need you to show me that I'm important to you. Sometimes it feels like I'm just the moon of planet Bones and I'm getting tired of it.

She stared at him. "You're tired Booth? So am I. You throw these figures of speech at me like they're supposed to mean something, when you know I don't understand them. Here's a metaphor, no simile, for you Booth. I feel like Sisyphus, the mythical Greek, who was forced to push a boulder uphill for eternity. I keep trying and trying, but it's never enough." She pushed back her chair and stood, fighting the prickling sensation at the back of her eyes. "You have all these rules you've made up in your head about how a relationship is supposed to work, but you've never given me the playbook!"

"Bones…"

She started to pace as she listed her faults. "I'm not overly demonstrative of my feelings. I am overly literal. I work too much. I become anxious when I have nothing to occupy myself. I don't suffer fools and have been told that I can be harsh, cold even. I follow through on my commitments, sometimes to the detriment of my personal life. I can't always drop things at a hat when you ask me to Booth. You know this about me. You've always known this about me."

His mind was awash with rebuttals that refused to be said aloud. He sat back in his chair and stared at her.

She shrugged, helplessly. "You told me once that you loved me for who I was, but I am beginning to think that you lied or were misled by your own feelings. The evidence is leading me to believe that you only love some ideal of who I might be someday. That's not love, at least as I've come to understand it. You need to decide, Booth, if you can accept me as I am, or not at all."

He felt her waiting for him to say something, anything to make things better, but couldn't quite meet her eyes. After a few moments, he heard her footsteps and then the door open and chanced a glance upward. He felt tangled in guilt and relief at her retreat.

He noticed that when she left, she didn't look back.

(...)

The next week and a half was spent in strained politeness between them. Booth made sure to keep Brennan advised of all developments on the case and Brennan made sure to give Booth any updates on the lab side of things herself. When the break in the case finally came through, they questioned the witness together with no hint of acrimony. Booth barely blinked when Brennan asked to accompany him to make the arrest. It was all straightforward and very professional.

It was unbearable.

She found him again in his office the night after the case was officially closed. They had not slept in the same bed in over three weeks; had not eaten together; had not touched except for the brief handholding in the car. Her tentative text to him about drinks with the team had been ignored, and she doubted referencing their more recent tradition of going home afterwards to celebrate privately would be well received.

He sat hunched in the same position as the last time she had appeared at his door. This time she didn't hesitate or knock, just walked straight in and settled a stack of folders on his desk, handing him the top one with confidence.

"Bones?" He questioned.

She stepped back and pointed at the files. "Those are my reports from all our recently completed cases, including notes and details for any pending trials, although I have verified with Caroline that none are on the docket for the near future. That," she pointed at the file in his hand, "is a copy of my request for a sabbatical, signed by Cam this afternoon. I wanted to inform you in person of my plans, as I believe you deserve at least that as a person who plays a significant role in my life."

"Bones?" He frowned.

"I need to take a break Booth. I realize that this will seem to you as if I am running away." She shrugged and admitted, "Perhaps I am. But I don't know what to do." She held up her hand to stop him from interrupting. "Please let me speak first. You can express your disappointment with me after I have finished."

He nodded slowly.

"I have tried both apologizing for my actions and discussing with you a solution to our problems, but you have given me no indication that you have any desire to seek a remedy at this time. I do not know how to fix this, us. I have talked to both Angela and Sweets about how I can improve or reach a suitable compromise with you, but neither seemed to have anything to offer by way of suggestion that would be acceptable to you given your disinclination to discuss sex or your own emotions. As such I have decided to provide both of us time and space to get over our mutual anger."

Her eyes, which had been darting around the room, finally met his. "I value the relationship between us Booth, but I can't do this," she waved between them, "any longer. So I am taking a six week sabbatical starting one week from today, and I hope that when I return we will be able to sort out an appropriate arrangement going forward." She surreptitiously wiped a tear from her cheek and braced herself for his response.

His voice was almost a whisper. "Where are you going?"

"Darfur. Several months ago I turned down a request from the ICRC to assist in the identification of a suspected mass grave site. When they reoffered yesterday I accepted."

"Bones, it's not stable over there."

"I am aware of that Booth. However, I have been reassured of more than adequate security during my investigations and have proven that I am quite capable of protecting myself in similar situations."

"Bones don't go," he pleaded.

She stared. "Why?"

"What?"

"Why do you not want me to go? Is it because you wish to work through our problems, or is it because you feel an obligation to protect me?"

"…"

"I see." She nodded and swallowed. "I will miss you, Booth. More than you will know." This time she did not hide the tears from him. She stepped forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his check.

"Bones." He reached out to grab her but she slipped from his grasp.

She reached into her purse and revealed a wrapped present. "Please give this to Parker on his birthday in two weeks. Tell him I am sorry that I broke another promise." She shrugged and gave him a wan smile. "At least I will no longer be around to disappoint him." The gift was placed in his hand before she retreated. "Take care Booth. Be happy."

And then she was gone. He stared at the gift in his hand, wondering what the hell he was doing sitting on his ass when his heart was screaming at him to go after her.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thanks to those who've reviewed – I really appreciate the feedback – both positive & constructive crit!

Disclaimer: I may consist of 206 bones, but I don't own Bones.

"_Grown-ups never understand anything by themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them" - Antoine de Saint Exupery _

**3.**

"Dad?"

"Yeah Bub?" He glanced at his son sitting in a pile of ripped wrapping paper and toys. He was still staring at the original Pete Rose card he held, in admiration.

"This is awesome!"

"I'm glad you like it Parker." He responded carefully.

"And the best part is it's going to match the other one Bones gave me."

"Other one?" Booth asked blankly.

"Yeah. My card? The one she gave me after my playoff game?"

"Your card? What card?"

"She didn't show you it? Man. It's cool. It looks just like this one, 'cept it's me," the boy explained.

"Bones gave you your own baseball card after your playoff game last month?" Booth clarified.

"Yep," Parker nodded. "She said that she was sorry that she couldn't be there to see me play but she hoped I'd like the card, you know, as an apology for missing it. She said she had to meet with a bored guy and he must have been really bored 'cause he made her talk to him for hours."

"Oh." Booth didn't know what to do with this new information.

"Hey Dad? How come Bones isn't here? I asked her weeks ago and she said she'd come."

Booth tensed. "She went away for a while Bub. She said to apologize to you though and gave me that to give you." He nodded to the card.

"Did she have to go help someone with her work?"

"Yeah, something like that."

Parker nodded in acceptance. "Okay."

Booth started. "Wait, you're not upset?"

"No Dad. Bones has an important job, just like yours." He shrugged. "Sometimes the things she does for other people have to come first."

Booth smiled at his son. "But you know that you're always the most important thing, right?"

"Yeah." The boy looked doubtful and added, "Well….kinda."

"Kinda?"

"It's just…well, you and Bones help save people, don't you Dad?"

He cringed, thinking of the aspects of his job he didn't want his son to know about. "Sometimes."

"And you figure out how people die so that their families don't have to worry anymore?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"And you're always saying that adults have responsibilities, right dad? That sometimes you gotta do work even if you'd rather be having fun with me?

"Whatcha getting at Bub?"

"Well I guess maybe aren't those things more important? I mean, like if I'm not scared or hurt or anything?"

"I don't know: you're more important than anything to me."

"Yeah, I know. But Dad, you've still missed things with me 'cause of work. Like that year you got stuck in the lab for Christmas and I had to talk to you through a window?"

"You remember that?"

Parker rolled his eyes. "Yeah Dad. You got me that cool robot?" He shook his head in disgust at his father's apparent forgetfulness. "Plus that time you pretended to be dead? And that time we were supposed to go camping but you went to the circus instead?"

"You got me big man. But I made it up to you didn't I?" He waggled his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Parker nodded enthusiastically. "Tell Bones thanks for me when you talk to her," he added offhandedly. "Hey, why don't you ever take me to the circus Dad?"

Booth shuddered and frowned.

Seeing the look on his father's face, Parker thought he understood. "Gotta wait for armpit hair?"

Booth nodded and felt a wave of pride and sadness. He held out his arms for a hug and kissed his son's hair.

Parker squirmed out of his father's arms. "Yuck Dad!" He ducked but still got noogied for his efforts.

"Such a brat!" Booth teased as they tussled together.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Life's under no obligation to give us what we expect." - Margaret Mitchell_

**(.xxx.)**

Dr. Lance Sweets was enjoying his 10 minutes of calm between patients when his office door creaked open and a certain special agent slumped onto the couch in front of him. He stared in surprise at the man, taking careful note of his disheveled appearance. "Agent Booth? Can I help you?"

The man scrubbed at his face with his hands and mumbled, "I messed up."

The psychologist leaned forward. "How exactly did you 'mess up'? Does this have to do with Dr. Brennan's sabbatical?"

Booth lifted his head and glared. "Of course it does. You know it does. She told me she talked to you before she left."

"Agent Booth, what Dr. Brennan and I may or may not have discussed is not something I can share with you."

Finally Booth gave in and confessed what had been bothering him for weeks. "She said I was lying to her."

"Were you?"

"Was I what?"

"Lying?"

"No. I…. She said all this stuff about me not loving her for her? Or trying to fix her? Or something? I don't know. I just. Look, I get that Bones isn't like most women. I mean, that's what I like about her, you know? But sometimes she can be…and I just wish…

"You wish she were different."

"No. Yes? No. I just wish she'd make more of an effort. We're in a relationship; shouldn't she want to spend time with me?"

"When you do things together, has she ever indicated that she didn't want to be with you, that she'd rather be somewhere else?"

The agent paused to consider, "Well, no…at least not once I got her there."

"Did she ever appear unhappy to see you? Or ignore you when you made specific requests of her?"

"Sweets, this is Bones. I try to take her out on a fancy date and she complains that I'm being an alpha male. But no, usually she tries to be there for me, except when she can't."

"So what changed?"

"What?"

"How is any of this different then when you were 'just partners'?"

"We're dating. A relationship. We're not just partners anymore."

"Okay, well did you ever discuss your expectations for a relationship with her?"

"Well…" Both men leaned back in their seats, one studiously attempting to avoid the other's gaze.

"Agent Booth, you perhaps better than anyone knows that Dr. Brennan is not a mind reader. If you are not happy in your relationship with her you have to tell her directly."

"Who said I wasn't happy?" Booth defended with a glare.

Sweets looked at him but said nothing.

"Look. Bones, she's everything. I am happy with her, I am," he insisted.

"Then why are you here?" Sweets let the question linger before he noticed the time. "I have an appointment."

"Sweets?" Booth hesitated at the door. The other man waited. "Do you think she was right?"

The doctor frowned. "No, Agent Booth, I don't think you were lying to her." At the agent's more than relieved look, he added, "I think you were lying to yourself." With that, he turned to his desk in dismissal.

Booth's face was grim as he walked out the door.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Even still, we run. We have not reached our average of 57.92 years without knowing that you run through it, and it hurts and you run through it some more, and if it hurts worse, you run through it even more, and when you finish, you will have broken through. In the end, when you are done, and stretching, and your heartbeat slows, and your sweat dries, if you've run through the hard part, you will remember no pain." - Lauren Groff, The Monsters of Templeton_

**(.xxx.)**

Temperance Brennan stared at the file in front of her, unseeing. Sifting through the detritus of human life required a specific mindset; one that she had always prided herself on inhabiting. With each day she spent in this place, it became clearer that, metaphorically speaking of course, she had changed.

She sighed; despite the rustic conditions and the fact that she had been refused access to the grave site, the dig was well organized. The bodies came to her devoid of flesh and grime. She spent much of each day cataloging markers on the bones in dim light, eyes squinting through the magnifying lens that had been provided. It should have been satisfying.

Instead she felt off-balance without her team; without the technology she was accustomed to; without her gloves and sterile work environment. She was frustrated at how little the forensic evidence meant, watched as critical information was ignored or tossed away. Despite an abundance of proof to the identities of the guilty, very few would ever face punishment. Many of the victims would never be known, even with her colleague's patient collection of DNA samples.

She scraped her feet against the bare earth floor and chased away the fly that was teasing her hair. The fans ineffectively pushed air around her makeshift office, brushing hours of cumulative paperwork listlessly across the table and cooling nothing.

Brennan's job was this: catalogue the bones, read the notes, and assign names where she could. The task was daunting with only stray scraps of paper and oral histories to rely upon, if she was lucky. Sometimes she was forced to question the local people with her interpreter: so and so had a limp, this man hauled rock at a quarry for a time, there was a boy with a chipped lateral incisor. The last she had surmised from a pointing finger. Only five of the assumed missing had medical records. The inequality of life haunted her dreams. The poor didn't go to the dentist to fix a broken tooth. The poor didn't have protection from political strife. At her most cynical, she'd posited that rich men rarely ended up in unmarked graves. No one contradicted her.

Her mind wandered. She berated herself for not being focused, for letting her thoughts drift across the large land mass and the ocean towards the place she called home. Her heart wasn't in this anymore. The work still felt important, necessary, but lacking in some way.

The man, her interpreter, Ibrahim, had braved the ongoing conflicts and tensions to tell UN observers of the grave in western Sudan. Twenty three bodies had been discovered, tossed inside a shallow pit like yesterday's refuse. Forty more were missing; most of them young men, but she had concluded in the week that this was not their grave. The bone fragments were many, but the numbers didn't add up.

She hungered to tear away the secrets buried in the ground, to dig until no one was left unaccounted. She knew Ibrahim feared that he would not survive long after this work was done. She had watched him often of late. He would sit quietly in the shadows, almost as if waiting for more secrets and rumors to reach his ears, anything to keep their group from leaving, anything to stay alive. There were new graves appearing. The conflict refused to end. The work would never end. Often she felt hopeless.

The world was pretty here. The world was ugly here. In the mornings, she sat with her tiny cup of guhwah coffee, the sweetness of the grass filter warring with the bitter beans, and watched the mist on the mountains and felt at peace. Sometimes at night the heavy drums beat the rhythm of her heart as she willed sleep to come. She would laugh when the mothers chided their children for going out in the heat of the day or darkness of night. The heat will get them; the nayama will get them, the mother's would say in worried tones. They were not entirely wrong. By some estimates, 480,000 had died in this conflict, millions more displaced. It wasn't because of a mythical animal or the weather. People were the problem; greed was the problem.

No, the cause was a just one. She had something of value to contribute to it and she did not fear for her own safety. But being so far from home was much harder than she had considered. She had too many attachments now, too many people depending on her. She wasn't sure she liked it, the sensation of attachment, however metaphorical it may be. She missed being responsible for only herself. She was irritated that her actions had consequences for others; that she had a duty to consider them as well.

She huffed in annoyance and closed the file, deciding that her current train of thought was unproductive. She had a professional obligation to use her skills, and if it provided her a chance to escape the tension at home, then so be it. No one else deserved to have a say in how she lived her life.

If only she could determine which life she wanted to live.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Ever since happiness heard your name, it has been running through the streets trying to find you." - Hafez _

**(.xxx.)**

"Hey ladies, what do you have for me?" Booth forced lightness into his tone and step as he joined Cam and Angela on the platform.

Angela glared at him and turned back to Cam. "I'll be in my office."

He shrugged it off. "Was it something I said?"

Cam just looked at him and turned toward the body on the table. Threads of flesh and grime still clung to the bones. To Booth's estimation, not much had been done since transferring it from the dumpster to the lab. "I've completed a preliminary exam, but I'm afraid I can't give you much. Hodgin's has been scouring the crime scene all morning. Angela's been checking the dentals, but no hits so far. Clark will be here tomorrow morning. He's going to review the x-rays before catching a flight back from L.A. tonight."

Booth straightened in surprise. "That's it?"

"Yes Seeley," she explained patiently with a hint of an ironic grin. "Unlike some people, I do flesh, not bones."

He ignored her smile and continued, "What's Clark doing in L.A.? Shouldn't he be here?"

"We haven't had a case in over a month. I told him he could attend a three day conference." She shrugged. "What were the odds?"

"Isn't there anyone else? Wendell? My boss is breathing down my neck for answers."

"Wendell is an intern, Seeley. I don't believe Caroline would be impressed with having to present his credentials to a jury."

The man slumped against the railing in defeat, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Angela's mad, huh?"

Cam looked at him knowingly. "She's her best friend."

"I know, I just…."

She moved beside him and bumped his shoulder. "Have you talked to her?"

He ignored the implication in her voice. "Angela?"

"Sure, let's go with that." She looked up at him. "It might help, you know."

"I just don't want to hear it. She's the one who left, not me."

"And you didn't give her good reason to?" She asked pointedly. "Look Seeley, you're a big boy, you do what you want. But remember that all of us are affected by this. And we want to see you happy. Both of you."

**(.xxx.)**

"_A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you." – Elbert Hubbard_

**(.xxx.)**

He knocked softly on the artist's door. "Ang? You got a minute?"

The woman glanced up at him and then back at her computer screen. "I'm running the dentals for missing women of Hispanic origin, but until I have more to go on I don't think I'll be able to narrow it down much. I'm going to have to wait until Clark can give me a better age range and some tissue markers to get a good feel for the face."

"That's not what I'm here for."

She looked up at him again. "That's all I have to discuss with you Booth."

"Look, I know I messed up, but can you… Is she doing okay?"

Angela stood and retreated as he advanced into the room, shaking her head dismissively. "I'm not talking to you about this."

He sighed. "What if I talk to you?" She didn't move. "Look Ang, I know I screwed up. I just got tired and frustrated, you know? It was just so hard and nothing seemed to be changing despite my best efforts. And then she ran away..."

The anger in the artist's eyes shimmered brighter. "You can be a real ass sometimes Booth." She shook her head, almost to herself. "I've been trying to convince her for years, years Booth, that she should give you a shot. I mean, my god, you were like some sort of saint with her. I rarely have that kind of patience with her and she's my best friend. But the second you get involved, the second she truly lets herself be vulnerable to you, you go all Jekyll and Hyde on her."

"I didn't…"

She cut across him. "No, okay, I've changed my mind. You'll listen and I'll speak. 'Cause you say you know you messed up, but you don't get it, do you? You still don't see what happened?"

She gave him a rueful chuckle and held up one finger. "She agreed to date you; to be with you in a 'monogamous relationship' were her words." She added another finger. "She told you she loved you despite never telling any other man those words." Another finger. "She let you open doors and drive and pull out chairs and all that other chivalrous garbage you love and she hates." Another. "She stopped working on weekends and didn't pull a single all-nighter the whole time you were together. Booth, for five months!" She held up her hand. "Number 5. She lit up when she saw you or talked about you. Six. She wouldn't discuss her biological urges with me, at all. She just kept saying that 'what was between you was yours,' like some sort of mantra. Sweetie, trust me on this: she used to tell me everything. Seven. She gets offers for outside work all the time and she used to accept three or four a year, sometimes more. Since she started working with you, it's been one a year. Since she started dating you? Nothing. I mean, there have been some pretty awesome offers, the history changing kind she loves. But she just turned them down flat until you guys went on the skids, and even then she wasn't going to accept. I had to convince her to go. Me!"

Booth glared at her at this last one. "Look Booth, usually I'm all 'Go Team Booth n' Bren!' but she was barely eating or sleeping. Every time she talked or didn't talk to you, she was on the brink of tears. She blamed herself for everything. There was no compartmentalization, nothing. That's not Bren." She sighed. "Do you want me to continue? I've a few more fingers to go and there are two in particular I'd like to give you."

He didn't break a smile at her joke. "I think I've got the point."

"Do you?" Angela asked earnestly. "She has changed Booth, a lot. It may be subtle and it may never be a perfect transformation, but she did it because of you. It was so hard for her to let you in Booth, and you basically told her it wasn't good enough." She paused and stared him down. Finally, she sighed, "Maybe it's about time for you to start making some changes for her." She sat back down at her computer, slipped on her headphones and left him to his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**4**.

Booth sat in his living room, a beer in his hand, a Phillies game on the TV in front of him. They were winning. He thought maybe he should be happy about that. But for the past four weeks, seven if you counted the three before that, there hadn't been much to make him happy. Parker of course, but that was about it. He worried about her constantly but found himself almost dreading her return. He'd been over their mistakes a hundred times and felt no closer to deciphering what had gone wrong. He felt a seed of doubt, wondering if maybe he'd only been in love with the idea of Bones. That maybe his friend's insinuations were right.

He took a final slug of beer and settled the bottle on the coffee table. No. If anything, his gut told him he'd loved Bones for a long time, probably even longer than he was aware of. And that was the thing that really bugged him. If he loved her then, with all of her social defects and logical arguments, then why did these things bother him now? He'd had her and her love, in every form. She'd loved his son. She'd opened up to him. Except...

Except he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. He kept hearing her say that love was chemicals and that monogamy wasn't natural and that no one could predict what they'd feel in a year let alone 30 or 40. He wondered if somewhere along the way they'd swapped beliefs and now he was just waiting for her to realize that his statements about eventually and fate were nothing more than wishful thinking.

Yeah, she could have done more. She should have called him when she didn't show at Parker's playoff game. Hell, she could have re-scheduled her appointment and gone to the game, although he understood better now why she didn't. She should have taken more initiative with their relationship instead of always letting him take the lead. She should have fought him less when he was asking for what they both wanted. But she was learning and growing and he'd promised to help her when she stumbled. He just didn't understand himself. Sweets words echoed in his head: what changed? Was it really only his expectations that had changed?

He was still pondering these questions when someone knocked at the door. He checked the clock and figured his pizza had finally arrived an hour late. He had his wallet in his hand and was prepared to make a comment about the tip, when he looked up and realized pizza wasn't in his plans for the evening. He blinked slowly, making sure he wasn't imagining things. She was there. "Bones," he gasped.

She gave him a timid smile and handed him a bag of take-out. "I thought you might be hungry."

**(.xxx.)**

"_There are two basic motivating forces: fear and love. When we are afraid, we pull back from life. When we are in love, we open to all that life has to offer with passion, excitement, and acceptance. We need to learn to love ourselves first, in all our glory and our imperfections. If we cannot love ourselves, we cannot fully open to our ability to love others or our potential to create. Evolution and all hopes for a better world rest in the fearlessness and open-hearted vision of people who embrace life." - John Lennon _

**(.xxx.)**

"Bones?" His tone was disbelieving, questioning. She wasn't supposed to be here, not now when she'd committed to being gone for a month and a half, and not now, when he still hadn't figured things out.

Her expression fell as he stood and stared at her in his doorway. "Booth?" She questioned back. "Booth?"

When he still didn't move she faltered, a wave of panic rushed through her. She'd come here for a purpose, promising herself that she would see it through, but now, now she wasn't so sure. Maybe she should have called. Or wrote. She was an excellent writer. Perhaps writing would have been the better choice. But no, it was also the safer choice, and she had made up her mind to quit playing the safe game. Collecting her scattered thoughts and nerves, she pushed past him into his apartment and slowly turned back to face him.

"Bones?" His continual repetition of her name and nothing further was starting to annoy her.

"Yes. It is me. Are you uncertain of the reality of the situation? Do you wish me to call a doctor? Or pinch you as they do in similar situations in the movies?"

Her words snapped him back into the moment and he carefully closed the door. "Nah. I'm just surprised."

She nodded in relief. "Yes, I am certain that my presence is surprising to you. I apologise Booth, I should have called."

"No. No, it's okay." He looked down at the bag in his hands. "You brought food."

"I thought that it would be an appropriate offering of peace. That is, if you are hungry?" She looked at him uncertainly.

He nodded, heading toward the kitchen. "I'll get some plates. You thirsty?" He felt a brief moment of disappointment when his attempted escape to regain his footing was foiled by her pursuit.

"Yes," she replied as she simultaneously reached for the fridge door. "I'll get it. Beer for you?"

He nodded again and eased the takeout onto the counter. "Bones?" He tried.

She scowled. "Can you please stop repeating my name without saying anything else? It is repetitive."

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be in Al-Fashir for weeks." He placed two sets of chopsticks on the counter.

Grabbing a plate, she began to spoon out the green curry and tofu, avoiding looking at him. "I came home early."

"Bo…." He stopped himself. "Why?"

Finally lifting her eyes to his, she gave him a piercing look. "That is part of what I'd like to discuss with you, if you are now willing to speak with me."

"I never-"

She interrupted, "No. You weren't interested before I left. I need to know that you're willing to have this conversation with me now."

He opened his mouth to shoot back a bitter reply but didn't have the heart to follow through. Finally, he mumbled, "Yes."

"Would you object if we ate first? I've not eaten since very early this morning and find myself hungry."

"Yeah, Bones, whatever you'd like." He pointed his chin towards the couch. "Let's sit."

**(.xxx.)**

"_The best way to find out if you can trust somebody is to trust them." - Ernest Hemingway_

**(.xxx.)**

They sat together, but apart and focused on their meals, in silence. It was five minutes before Brennan put down her plate and looked up at him with grim determination in her eyes. "I owe you an apology. Several, in fact."

He nodded. "I think I do too?"

She quirked her head in surprise, "You do?"

He ducked his head slightly. "Yeah, me too."

"Oh." She looked completely thrown by his confession and he felt guiltier than before. He might not completely understand it, but he knew he'd played an equal role in their troubles. It had never occurred to him that she blamed herself for everything. "I don't," she started, "I don't know what to say now. I…" She shook her head, flustered.

"Start with why you're back," he encouraged. "We'll get to the rest. You're not," he paused. "Nothing happened, did it?"

She shook her head again. "No. The work wasn't as extensive as it originally appeared to be. The grave contained far fewer bodies than anticipated. I was offered additional work, there were more sites of concern, but I…" She swallowed nervously. "I told them I couldn't; that I needed to return home." She had used her connections to find a replacement. The work would continue with or without her, and for once she was okay with that.

He gave her a small smile. "I'm glad you did."

"Booth, I have to admit that I considered staying. I wasn't sure. I thought maybe it was for the best. But I soon realized that if I stayed I was endangering the life I have built here. And I couldn't live with that. That is my first apology to you: I'm sorry I ran."

He reached for her but paused in hesitation. "Bones. I'm not sure if you ran so much as you were pushed."

"I don't understand."

"I expected you to run; was waiting for it. When you kept coming back to me looking for answers I just, I pushed your buttons, I made you go."

"Buttons? Booth I don't…"

"Metaphorical buttons Bones." He interrupted. "I knew that you would leave if I acted the way I did. I think I wanted you to leave."

She sat back from him, hurt and even more confused. "Why?"

He looked down in embarrassment. "If you left, then I wouldn't feel guilty for pushing you away." He shrugged. "Didn't work that way. Maybe you're right about psychology."

She struggled to understand the turn the conversation had taken. "You wanted me to leave you because you expected me to leave you?" She pondered the words. "You and Angela and even Sweets have intimated in the past that my previous relationships have failed because I left them before they could leave me. That by being in control of the situation it ameliorated the hurt of being left behind. That it is related to my parents' abandonment." She looked him squarely in the eyes. "My intention was not to leave you Booth, but to give us an opportunity to work through our individual problems. I am sorry that I made you think I was abandoning you." The irony of the statement hit her seconds later and she looked away, ashamed. "Perhaps you were right to feel that way."

"Hey Bones," he urged softly. "You came back. That means something, okay?" She didn't look at him, but nodded nonetheless. She fidgeted with the cuff of her sweater and he set his plate down next to hers, shifting closer. "Bones? I'm sorry for being such a jerk to you about Parker's game."

"You were disappointed in me. I hurt you and Parker."

"And I jumped to conclusions, Bones. Parker told me what you did for him. He told me about the, what was it, boring guy? I forgot you had a meeting with the board of the Jeffersonian that morning and it never occurred to me that it would run so long. I'm sorry for treating you the way I did. You didn't do anything wrong."

She blinked back the tears forming in her eyes. "I did intend to attend the game Booth. But by the time the meeting was over, so was the game."

"It's okay. I get it now. You had a meeting you couldn't get out of, it happens. A phone call would've been nice though," he added.

She blushed. "I took a mild analgesic when I got back to my apartment and lay down for a moment as my head was aching. I woke up at two the next morning."

He laughed for what felt like the first time in months. "You fell asleep? Ms. 'I have incredible stamina' fell asleep after a day of meetings! Ha!" His eyes widened as her blush deepened. "That's why you didn't tell me. You were embarrassed? Oh Bones," he sighed in exasperation.

"In hindsight," she replied softly, "I should have explained and avoided this situation."

Something inside of him melted at seeing her dejected pose. He had been avoiding touching her since she appeared at his door. It had been self-preservation, but suddenly he ached to feel her skin. Tentatively he lifted his arms and encouraged her to lean into him. She smelled of dust and sweat and spice. He closed his eyes, and for a moment considered saying 'screw it' to the discussion they were having and skipping straight to the making up. He pulled away from her slowly, reluctantly, with the realization that avoiding their problems was the last thing they needed.

"We still need to talk," her statement mirrored his thoughts.

He nodded and cleared his throat. "Bones, I'm not sure if it would have mattered, in the long run that is, if you'd shown up to that game or called or whatever."

"I don't understand."

"I know, I just, it was building, you know? If it hadn't been that I think I'd have found something else to pick a fight with you about." He felt like a bully all of a sudden. Although he knew he could be petty sometimes. He'd never thought that he'd treat someone like that, especially Bones.

"Why?" she asked. "Why did you want to do that?"

He offered her a shamed smile. "It seemed like a good idea at the time?" Off her dubious look he added, "I'm not sure what I thought I was doing Bones. Things were off between us. I felt like you were pushing me away and I guess I wanted to push you back. I don't know why I felt that. You weren't really acting any differently. Maybe it's my fault; maybe my expectations for you did change once we were involved."

It was her turn to look away in guilt.

"Bones?" he questioned, hesitating at saying her name after her earlier admonishment. She looked up at him and he read the shame in her eyes. "You were pushing me away?"

She nodded her head once, sharply.

"Why?" he asked breathlessly, relieved that it hadn't been all in his head; that this wasn't all on him. Although the reaction was perfectly Brennan, it didn't mean he understood it.

"I believe this is where my second apology is due, Booth. While it was not my intention to drive you away, I now understand that my actions during that time may have been construed to you as such."

"What actions Bones? I mean, I think I know. But why?"

She hesitated. "Do you remember our 5 month anniversary Booth? You took me out to dinner and presented me with a pendant? You suggested we go on a vacation together?"

He nodded slowly. "I thought you enjoyed that?"

"Oh, yes, I enjoyed it very much," she confirmed.

"Was it the vacation then? Was it too much?"

"No Booth, I wanted to go on a vacation with you, even though I don't see why increasing my risk of melanoma, cirrhosis of the liver, and heart disease is seen as a desirable state to indulge in."

He smiled at the familiar argument. "Because it's fun, remember? And because it would be you and me for a week without crime and mayhem and squints."

She fought back her own smile and gave him a half-hearted scowl. "By your own definition, I am a squint Booth. Did you want to take that vacation by yourself?" They shared a smile, but the original intent of the conversation wove its way between them.

"So what happened?" Booth prompted.

She furrowed her brow. "I spoke with Angela the next day. She reminded me of the steps of a relationship and that after our vacation we would be ready for the 'next step'."

Though he thought he knew where this was going, he asked anyway. "Relationships have steps?"

"Yes," she nodded, "according to Angela they do. She reminded me of a conversation we had when you were dating Tessa and were planning to go on vacation with her as well. The next step after a vacation together is moving in together. However you and Tessa did not go on vacation together; nor did you move in together."

"Bones, I never did those things with Tessa because we weren't right for each other. Is that what this was about? You realizing you didn't want to take the next step, move in together? Cause Bones, I wasn't thinking of anything like that when I suggested going on vacation."

"I know. But once Angela mentioned it, I couldn't stop thinking of it."

"Okay?"

"I was very hesitant about the idea at first but after a time it became less and less of an abstract thought and more of a….eventuality."

"And that's what scared you?"

She shook her head impatiently. "No Booth, please let me explain this without hopping to conclusions."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Okay. No hopping."

"When we first met, I was seeing someone else." She confessed.

He blinked. "What?" He asked cautiously.

"It was very casual, only a few dates here and there. We weren't dating, then."

"Was that why you..." he trailed off, thinking about rain and cabs and tequila.

"No, I mean, yes, but only partially." She shook her head. She had been doing that a lot this conversation and once again felt the weight of her faults bearing down on her. "Afterwards, we became more serious. I had kept most of my relationships at the end of my arms for several years. I decided that I should attempt something different, to see if it would be more fulfilling."

"So you started dating this...?"

"Pete."

"Pete. So you started dating Pete and?"

"After a period of several months we agreed to move in with each other. Or rather, he decided to move in with me." She shifted uncomfortably at the surprise on his face. "It soon became apparent that it was a mistake."

Off his look, she continued, "It was unbearable to constantly have someone in my space, in my things; asking me questions that I couldn't answer; getting mad at me because I couldn't seem to compromise on the littlest things."

"Such as?" He asked, curious about this unknown part of her life.

"He preferred the right side of the bed, as did I; he left wet towels on the floor; he expected to know what I was doing and where I was going to be every single day, but had no interest in anything I discussed. Admittedly, I had very little interest in his profession either." She shrugged.

"Bones, that sounds pretty normal."

She shrugged again. "From my understanding of co-habitating couples, annoyances of trivial matters are normal, yes."

"Then what..."

"We started fighting. And he started staying at the office and so I started staying at the lab, and the only time we seemed to come together was in bed."

"Bones." His voice warned her of his discomfort of the topic, but she continued.

"It was sex Booth, biological urges. That's _all_ it was."

"So what happened?"

"I broke up with him and left for a dig in Guatemala the next day."

"Oof Bones, that's pretty..." He trailed off, not wanting to give voice to his thoughts.

"Cold? Yes, I am aware of that, now. But at the time, it seemed the most direct solution to the problem. He still had his apartment; it wasn't as if he had nowhere to go. And we both knew it was inevitable at that point."

"You ever see him again?"

"Once," she confirmed. "He broke into my apartment after I returned, ostensibly to reclaim the television, although as he had ample opportunity to do so before, I believe the visit was more in the nature of a 'booty call'."

He bit back the laugh that wanted to escape after hearing the words 'booty call' on her lips. "What'd you do?"

"I was exhausted. He must have knocked something over or made a sound as it woke me from a very deep sleep. Someone," she glared in his direction, "had kidnapped me to work on a murder case immediately after I returned home. I hadn't slept in over thirty-six hours."

"I thought of it more as friendly persuasion than kidnapping," he joked. "What'd you do?"

"At the time I slept with a baseball bat under my bed for protection. When I realized there was someone in the apartment I went after him with it.

"Baseball bat?"

"He came through a door and I swung at him. He was carrying the television in his arms," she explained.

His eyes widened in realization. "So when you used to say that your TV was broken…?"

"I broke it with the baseball bat," she confirmed.

"Wow, Bones, that's. I knew you were a little jumpy back then, but a baseball bat?"

She looked away. "Booth, that trip, the one before… Things happened that made me more… wary… when my defenses were down." She watched him tense and assured him, "It's not something that bothers me now. I've dealt with it Booth, don't worry." She tossed her hair and grinned, "Besides, I found the sound of the screen smashing into small pieces to be very cathartic."

"Bones," he chided as she smiled wickedly. Despite how much he wanted to find out what happened he stopped himself from asking more. "I'm not sure what that has to do with us."

"When I started to consider moving in with you, I thought of how things were with Pete. I didn't want to repeat the same mistakes with you. I was trying to take an objective look at my habits and myself. I'm not very good at understanding my own behaviors, especially when you are around me. I believe I may have created a distance between us in order to gain some more perspective."

"You couldn't have gained perspective by talking to me about it?"

"I intended to discuss the subject with you once I fully understood my own position. I felt that it was very likely you would be gungo for it, and I didn't want to raise your hopes prematurely."

There was so much he wanted to say in response, but what came out was, "Gungo?"

She frowned. "Yes, gungo. To be very enthusiastic?"

"It's gung-ho, Bones, gung-HO," he stressed.

"Oh," she replied, "I see." She was quiet for a few moments before asking, "Why do you always feel the need to correct me when I use improper slang terminology and idiomatic expressions?"

He smiled slightly and countered, "Why do you always feel the need to correct me when I get squint speak wrong?"

"Because I want you to understa…." She stopped in realization. "Oh, I see." She looked up at him. "Thank you." She spoke so sincerely, he couldn't help but lean in and press a light kiss to her lips.

"Thank _you_, Bones." She blushed back at him. He pulled away, resisting the urge to linger close. "You still could have talked to me about it, no matter how gungo you thought I'd be. At the very least you could've told me you needed some space instead of working crazy hours and avoiding me."

"I wanted to surprise you with it, to do something you wouldn't expect. You were always the one pushing us forward, and for once, I wanted to be the one to advance our relationship." She looked away. "I should have known it would not work out. I'm not that person. I'm not sure I will ever be."

He felt another stab of guilt. "Hey. You have every right to try to work things out in your own head. I would have loved that surprise, you know? I just. I got scared and impatient. And instead of asking you what was going on, which is what I should have done because I know you would always answer me truthfully, I jumped to conclusions. Like always."

"I still feel that I disappointed you. That I gave you yet another reason to distrust me."

"Hey, I trust you."

Her look was wistful. "Do you trust me? Or do you only think that you should?"

He wasn't sure how to respond. "Of course I do, don't question that."

"I can't help but question it. You told me yourself that you questioned my commitment to you, that you thought I would leave you, hurt you. You doubted me; no matter how well deserved it turned out to be."

"I got scared, that's all. I let my fears take over," he soothed.

"But it's still distrust, no matter how you chop it."

He felt a flash of irritation. "You've been scared of us too, Temperance."

"Yes. I am scared. Of myself. Of what I will do to you when I inevitably fail. But I'm not scared of you. You have demonstrated to me repeatedly that I can share my fears with you and you won't betray me. You know me, my past, my faults and you still care about me. What I don't trust is that you won't let _me_ hurt _you_. I have come to believe you share that fear."

"You think I'm scared of you?"

"Aren't you? It's not as if I haven't given you reasons to be afraid. You were scared I would push you away, I did. You were scared I would leave you, I did."

"I…." He fell silent. She was right. He hated himself; she was right. "Shit Bones, I'm sorry."

"Why?"

"What?"

"Why are you sorry? It is my fault that you don't trust me. I have not provided you with convincing evidence to believe otherwise. In fact, by my actions, I have proven your beliefs about me correct. You should not trust me."

"I want to though, so much. And maybe you're right, that there's a part of me that still doubts you and me together. But it sounds wrong to me, because I know I trust you with my life and my son's life and all that I hold important."

This time she kissed him, sweetly, deeply, but briefly. "I want to prove to you that you can trust me with your heart, if you're still willing to take that risk."

He felt the breeze of her words on his face and leaned in the fraction of an inch between them. He was more than willing to take the risk.


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Okay, so I've come to realize (thanks to my insightful reviewers) that I may have a little itty bitty bias against Booth. But it's not really against him - he's a great guy - a truly good man (which I hope I've also been able to show). But he's definitely not perfect and I've been longing for recognition of that fact for a while. He gets to be a jerk some times; he gets to screw up. Doesn't make him any less. Just like Brennan's cool calculation and rudeness doesn't make her any less either. But the message I was getting on my screen a year ago was saying that only Brennan had to change and it frustrated me. I wanted to see a better balance, so, enter fic...

Anyways, on to the second 'arc' of this story - a few issues have been resolved, but it's never as easy as kissing & making up for these two, is it?

**(.xxx.)**

"_No matter how much you love someone, you still want to have you own way." - Chuck Palahniuk, Lullaby_

**5.**

"I have something to discuss with you." She came to him after a month of living together with a look of trepidation on her face that set his instincts on high alert.

They had reconciled over two months previously and had decided soon after to put an offer in on a house they'd stumbled upon during the course of an investigation. It was neither his nor hers, perhaps a little too expensive for his tastes and a little too remote for hers, but somewhere they could see themselves building a life together. Unfortunately, buying the house was the only thing they'd agreed upon so far. They'd begun bickering almost the moment they signed the papers.

Before, they'd thought themselves the expert on everything about the other. Now, living and working together without remit, they found out how little they knew. For Booth, it was the little things, like the slow realization that the reason Brennan did not watch movies or television was not that she didn't enjoy them, but that she couldn't stay awake for them. For him, she tried, but it soon became obvious that short of standing for the entire duration, her eyes would not cooperate. Some nights he'd leave her to work and go to the movies alone.

For Brennan, it was the discovery that Booth's impatience did not just extend to hustling her to crime scenes, but seemingly for everything else as well. Unless it was one of his planned activities, like a hockey game or a trip to the diner, he'd fidget and pace and sigh until it was time to leave. To her dismay it was a trait he'd encouraged in his son as well. Sometimes she wished that they were similarly equipped as a digital versatile disc player: complete with a mute and pause button.

It was things like the sound of the TV the living room and the kitchen and the den blaring constantly, all at once; or jumping at shadows of creepy knick-knacks at 3 in the morning. It was different exercise cycles: he late at night, she in the morning, the squeak of the treadmill dragging both from valued sleep. He pouted when she worked at home. She hated the socks rolled up under the covers at the end of the bed. They didn't talk about it. Instead the frustrations would build until they would burst forth with petty rebellions and cold silences. They were terrified of failing. The stakes were too high: personally and professionally. But, as difficult as it was to adjust, it was also the happiest they'd ever been, being together. There were unasked for foot rubs and co-mingled CD's and books. There were afternoons filled with laughter outside in the park and early morning drives to hockey practice and a soothing voice in the darkness when dreams became too real.

On the day one month and three days after moving in together they were still learning about each other, and Brennan's stomach was upset, roiling with nerves at the thought of displeasing him. "I have something to discuss with you," she said and he paled. A wave of dread washed over him.

"I'm not running," she assured him quickly, somehow picking up on his insecurity.

"No, you're sitting," he joked and she pushed him in the shoulder.

"Not funny, Booth, don't…" There was a warning in her tone. They needed to have this conversation.

"What are you so nervous about, Bones?" He asked warily, noting her half-bitten lip and worried eyes.

"I need to tell you something, but I'm afraid you will take it the wrong way."

"You can tell me anything," he responded almost by rote.

"No jumping to conclusions?" She clarified.

"No."

She tried to assess his sincerity. She still doubted that this would go well, but he seemed genuine. "I have been asked to participate in a dig."

The panic rose in his chest; he forced it down. "What kind of dig?" He had his suspicions. She'd been talking about a discovery down in South America for weeks now.

"The one in Peru? I mentioned it to you earlier. They found those mummified remains that…"

He cut in, his suspicions confirmed. "When?"

"Over the holidays," she admitted quietly.

"How long?"

"Three weeks. I would fly down the 25th and be back on the 14th."

"Oh." He didn't know what to say. It wasn't like he could tell her not to go. What he wanted didn't matter when it came to her career.

"I want you to come with me."

She said it quietly and he almost thought he misheard until he saw the hopeful glimmer in her eyes.

"What?"

"I would like you to come with me. I would like to show you what I love about my work. The part that doesn't involve murder."

"But."

"We would not leave until the evening of the 25th. You would still have Christmas Eve and morning with Parker."

"But I."

"You told me that Rebecca would be taking Parker away on vacation after spending the night with you, and you have more than enough vacation time accrued."

"What would I..."

"I would like to teach you some of the more basic excavation skills so that you could participate in the dig. Your investigative background may give us unique perspective on the site. And I thought we could take some time to see the sights as well. We will be very close in proximity to Machu Picchu, which I believe you have expressed interest in visiting." She spoke quickly, hoping to allay his concerns before he could voice them.

"Bones, I don't…."

"Booth, please think about this. You don't have to give me an answer this evening. I just wanted to feel you up on the matter. I have not confirmed anything with the organizers yet. Although I would very much like us both to participate, I will not if you do not wish it as well."

"Bones, I appreciate the invite, but I don't think so. I've said it before: Christmas and skeletons just don't mix."

He could see the flash of disappointment in her eyes at his response despite how quickly she buried it. "Oh." It was all she said but she moved away from him a fraction of an inch. "I see."

He was honest with her, but he still felt guilty. "I'm sorry Bones."

She nodded at him and gave him a sad smile. "So am I Booth." A few minutes later, she rose and headed to the kitchen where he heard the rush of water pouring out of the tap and the rattle of silverware. His feeling of guilt intensified; he'd come to discover that she only did dishes when she was upset. He felt stuck, unsure of how to make things better without spending another Christmas with a corpse.

**(.xxx.)**

"_I have never yet figured out what to do about good advice that you get, and that you know right away would help you, but that you cannot follow." - Holly Lisle, The Silver Door_

**(.xxx.)**

"You're an idiot, Booth." Those were first words Hodgins spoke when they met up with Jack and Angela at the Founding Fathers a few nights later. Bones had been more quiet than normal, but otherwise didn't seem to begrudge him his decision about their holiday plans. The night before she had tentatively asked him what he would like to do with their time off. He saw that as a positive development, even if her eyes did glaze over a bit when he started talking skiing and skating and snowmen.

"Nice to see you too," he returned sarcastically, trying to get a glimpse Bones in the crowd. Angela had grabbed her moments after they entered the door and neither had reappeared since.

"Hey, I've only got a few minutes to say this before Ang and Dr. B gets back. I figured you'd appreciate brevity."

"I'd appreciate not being called an idiot."

"Well, stop acting like one," Jack grinned.

Booth took a slug of beer and sighed. "What have I done now?"

"You turned down a tropical vacation with your live in girlfriend." He explained in a 'well duh' voice.

"Digging up dead people is not a vacation."

"To Brennan it is." The man reminded him.

"It's not normal to spend your Christmas vacation with corpses."

Hodgins grinned and repeated, "To Brennan it is."

Booth protested, "But…"

"Look man, I get you, I do. You're all about the family, tradition, and religious stuff. You like your job, but you'd rather not live and breathe it 24/7. Dr. B., she's different. Up until recently, Christmas was just a crappy reminder of everything she'd lost. But instead of moping or dwelling on it, she decided to spend it in a warm climate with like-minded people, doing the thing that made her feel happy. That became her tradition." He noticed that Booth was about to protest again and cut him off, "Yeah, I know, she has you, us now. But this is her way of sharing her life with you. You gotta play it her way sometimes man; it comes with the whole shiny and bow wrapped package."

"Jack, I don't…."

"Hey guys!" Angela's sultry purr interrupted his train of thought. "You haven't drunk nearly enough yet to be having a conversation that looks this serious in a bar."

He looked up and met the eyes of his partner who was trailing slightly behind her friend. She gave him a small smile and sidled up to the stool next to him. "So nice of you two to finally deign us with your presence," he joked. He didn't miss the brief flash of confusion in her eyes before she understood the joke.

"Angela informs me that males typically discuss 'booze and babes' in social situations while women engage in 'girl talk'. However, I fail to see the difference as both bonding rituals generally seem to include alcohol consumption and leering at attractive members of the opposite sex."

He grinned. "The only babe I'm leering at is you, Bones. You better not be leering at anyone else either."

Angela mock gasped, "Bren! You can't reveal the secrets of girl talk to a guy! It's against the rules!"

"There are rules to girl talk?" Brennan raised her eyebrows in question. "I would very much like to read them if they are written down."

"Unwritten Bren, unwritten." Angela corrected quickly.

"Oh." Leaving her disappointment aside, she looked between the two men. "What were you discussing? Angela is correct in that it appeared serious."

Booth looked away. Hodgins shrugged. "Holiday plans."

"It seems to be a common theme at this time of year. Angela mentioned skiing in Quebec?"

"Yeah, my family has a cabin out there. I figure we'll go up after Boxing Day and stay through New Years. There's this night ski thing and fireworks, the whole works, _très_ _romantique_."

"It sounds enjoyable, if cold." Brennan commented. "Booth also enjoys outdoor themed sports over the holidays. Perhaps we should also consider skiing during the leave of absence Cam is enforcing at the lab." She turned back to Booth. "What do you think?"

He shrugged. "Maybe. We'll think of something."

She frowned. "Christmas is less than three weeks away Booth. If travel is involved, we should finalize the details this week to guarantee our flights and accommodations."

"We'll figure it out." Dismissing her concern, he held up his beer bottle to Hodgins and asked, "Another?"

As the man nodded, he turned to the woman beside him. "Bones?"

She stared at him in frustration. "I have a sufficient quantity of wine remaining."

"Ang?" She shook her head in reply. "Okay, two beers it is." He rose and left the table.

Angela reached across the table and laid her hand on her friend's tightly clenched fist. "Bren?"

Taking a few moments to collect her whirling thoughts and blink back the sting of tears, she shook it off. "I'm fine Ang."

Off her friend's look, she added, "Really."

"Okay, but if you need me…"

Brennan smiled. "I know. I will tell you if I ever need assistance. I promise."

Hodgin's cut in, "The same goes for me too Dr. B, okay?"

She smiled at him gratefully. "Thank you Jack. Although I am quite self sufficient and doubt I will ever require it, I appreciate your offer." She cleared her throat and took a sip of her wine.

By the time Booth made it back to the table, the conversation had shifted to less touchy subjects. Gradually, she let herself relax until their knees touched, drawing comfort from his presence. She hadn't lied to her friends. She was fine, she just wasn't sure _they_ were fine.


	6. Chapter 6

"_I never understood why Clark Kent was so hell bent on keeping Lois Lane in the dark." - Audrey Niffenegger, The Time Traveler's Wife_

**6.**

Booth suppressed a smile as he felt Brennan's gaze on him. It was less than a week to Christmas and he knew he was driving her insane. He watched her pace across the living room as he reached out for a sip of his beer: the Flyers were playing the Rangers and they were losing.

Finally, she spoke up, "When I spoke to Russ last night he mentioned having us over on Boxing Day. Should I tell him to expect us?"

He shrugged. "I don't know Bones, we might be busy."

She stared at him. "Doing what, exactly? Those nebulous plans for taking walks and building snowmen that you are so fond of?"

He glanced briefly over at her from the TV before looking back. She was standing near the kitchen with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. "Well, yeah, but I have a few other surprises up my sleeve for next week as well. Tell you what, I'll give Russ a call and we'll figure out a time to get together."

"When?"

"What?"

"When will you call Russ?"

"What?" Temperance moved to stand in front of the TV and he craned his neck to see the picture behind her. "Bones, you're blocking the screen."

"I know Booth. Since you're so comfortable sitting in that position, I decided to make it easier for you to look at me when we're having this conversation."

"There's seven minutes left. Can we talk later?"

"No. I'm tired of waiting."

"Please?" He tried out his charm smile, but let it drop as her expression darkened. "Come on, what's seven minutes going to hurt?"

She stared at him, finally stepping away and down the hallway with her shoulders drooping slightly. "Fine."

He watched her go and with her went his previous feelings of smugness. This wasn't what he'd meant to do, irritate her yes, pissing her off, no. He'd just wanted to tease her a bit; add to the anticipation of the holidays. He hadn't lied about having surprises up his sleeve – he had a big one that he couldn't wait to spring on her. It was their first Christmas as a couple, it had to be special. He glanced back at the screen in time to see the Rangers score another goal with under 6 minutes to go and sighed. He finished off his beer and shut off the TV.

She was sitting on their bed staring at the wall blankly. She didn't look at him as she spoke. "I think it would be best if we spent some time apart right now."

He couldn't help himself, he panicked. "What? No way Bones, we live together - you can't run from me this time."

She glared at him. "I'm not running! I'm sitting! You don't get to accuse me of that right now!"

"You're the one talking about spending time apart, what else am I supposed to think?"

"You were supposed to give me the benefit of the doubt1 You were supposed to think that I was mad at you and didn't want to fight with you right now, not leap to an unfounded conclusion."

"You're mad at me?" He frowned, realizing his suspicion had been correct. He'd pushed it too far.

"Yes Booth. Yes! I'm mad at you! Why do you keep brushing me off when I ask you about our holiday plans? Are you afraid I'll ask you to do something unpleasant or boring? Angela tells me that the first Christmas with your significant other should be memorable milestone in a relationship."

"Jeez Bones, it's just the holidays, it's not that big of deal." Damn, he thought, she was more than pissed, she was furious at him.

"Not a big deal? You won't even discuss it Booth and as far as I know the only plan you have is to watch television and play in the snow. I can't sit around and do nothing for a week Booth! I have tried to be patient, to do things your way, but you won't allow me any leeway. There's an expression about climbing up the walls? I am ready to do that, because all my alternatives appear to be blocked! I am not allowed to work, either here or away. I am apparently not allowed to visit my family. I obviously can't go anywhere by myself, as you would consider it yet another example of me abandoning you. I feel trapped!"

"You really think spending a few days doing nothing with me is that bad?" He was slightly hurt at the way she was reacting.

She bit her lip and looked away.

Finally, he sighed. "Look, I may or may not have something planned that I'd like to surprise you with, okay? Can you just trust me on this?" He watched her clench her hands together tightly, but got no response. "Bones? Hey. Please?" He moved to sit beside her but she shifted away abruptly.

"Please leave me alone for a while Booth." She avoided looking at him as she paced across the room, picking up the dirty laundry she found strewn in her path.

He sighed. "No Bones, tell me what's wrong."

"I have told you what's wrong and you continue to brush it off as nothing." She threw the clothes into the hamper and let the lid slam shut.

"Okay, I'm sorry. I've been trying to surprise you, you know? Do something nice for you."

She whirled to face him. "It doesn't feel nice. It feels controlling."

"Whoa Bones! That's not it at all."

"Really? Then why is it I have to make all the compromises? Why is it that when I make plans or try to do something nice for us, you shoot it down? Why is it that you get to sulk in solitude when you're mad at me, but I have to talk to you the moment I get upset? Why can't you ever let me do what I want to do? Why is it always your way?"

"It's not always my way," he protested, thinking of the endless hours he'd sat in the audience at the last conference she'd lectured.

"No? _'Come on, what's seven minutes going to hurt?' _Does that ring the bells? _'Christmas and skeletons don't mix Bones'_. How about, _'Put away your computer Bones, it's the weekend. You can't work on the weekends.' _Every single time I've given in to you because I thought that's what people in relationships do."

He reacted badly to her taunts with one of his own. "That's not what this is about. What you're really upset about is that I didn't want to go dig up bodies for three weeks in the jungle."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Was I looking forward to it? Yes. Was I disappointed that you didn't consider it? Yes. Am I mad at you for not wanting to spend your holiday that way? No. Booth, you enjoy different things than me and since the point was to spend time with you, I have accepted your decision."

"You make it sound like I refused only for myself. You can't work all the time Bones. It's important to take time off and enjoy life with the people you love."

"I understand that Booth, and that's why I accepted your answer. But now that we're living together, I have no time to spare on anything but criminal cases and you! I am struggling to find time for my normal duties at the Jeffersonian as well as working on my next book, attending conferences, writing articles… It's even been difficult to find time to spend with Angela alone because you seem to expect me to include you in every facet of my life."

He scoffed, "I don't do that."

"No? You complain when I work overtime but also when I bring work home. You chastise me for skipping meals to catch up on work during the day. You insist on meeting me if I go out for drinks or coffee after work. You beg me to watch TV with you, but get annoyed when I attempt to multitask. Tell me Booth, what are my options? Do I quit writing? Do I stop working cases with you? Do I give up on the research aspect of my job? Do I never do anything alone again?"

He looked at her guiltily, "I just wanted to spend time with you outside of work. I never meant to keep you from the things you love."

"You're not! Just…never mind. It's not relevant to this discussion. We were talking about your holiday plans."

"How I make you feel is relevant Bones. And they're not just my holiday plans."

"As you have been deceiving me about them, and are not allowing me to participate in making them, they cannot be my plans."

"I'm not deceiving you! I'm surprising you, there's a difference," he defended.

"I don't enjoy being surprised, Booth, you know that."

"Can't I ever do something nice for you without a fight?"

She stared at him in consideration. "It would be nicer if you gave me a choice."

"But you'd say no or complain or…"

"So you took away my choice."

"Well…."

"Ergo, you have the control."

"No, I…"

"Meaning I have no control. Meaning that we're not really partners as partners implies an equality that does not exist between us."

"We are partners Bones. We are equals!"

"No Booth. If I were your equal, you would have told me that there was something you'd like to surprise me with over the holidays and asked that I trust you with the details."

"But telling you would ruin it!"

"And not telling me has worked so well."

He gave her the surprised look that always appeared on his face when she used humor or sarcasm in a conversation. She raised her eyebrow and crossed her arms in response.

"Fine!" He reached into his sock drawer and pulled out a folder, tossing it on the bed beside her. "Here. Merry Christmas. Happy?" This was so not the way it was supposed to go. He was supposed to surprise her with this on Christmas Eve, after Parker had been put to bed and they were cuddled up under the glowing lights of the tree.

She reached out and gingerly picked up the glossy booklet that had spilled out of the package. The cover appeared to advertise eco-adventures in Costa Rica. She set it down and sifted through the rest of the documents, airline tickets, hotel bookings, excursion plans, before turning back to him. "It appears like a very nice vacation Booth. I would very much enjoy spending time with you this way."

He sunk down beside her in defeat. "Then why the big fight?"

"Booth, how would you feel if I had surprised you with the trip I planned? It would have been a very similar vacation, except for the week spent working on the excavation together."

"The dig was only a week?"

"Yes, I had considered your bias against mixing Christmas and skeletons and tried to make accommodations to the schedule so that the majority of time was spent doing things you enjoyed."

"Things I enjoyed?"

"Yes, I found an all-inclusive resort with a large beach and pool that caters to international tourists and had planned several day trips to different areas of the country where we could engage in a variety of athletic endeavors, including the hike to Machu Picchu I mentioned previously."

He ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "You put a lot of thought into it, didn't you?"

"I imagine I put at least as much thought into it as you did planning your vacation."

"But you had the decency to run it past me first, just in case I didn't like it."

"I knew you would have reservations about it."

"And I didn't bother to hear you out, I just said no."

"As I said, I knew you would have reservations; I knew there was a chance that you would say no."

He lowered his head and reached for her hand. "I'm sorry Bones."

"I know. Thank you for apologizing to me."

"You're something, you know? To be able to forgive just like that?"

She hid her smile and leaned into him. "Who says I forgive you?"

His head shot up to look at her. He relaxed at her amused expression. "I really am sorry Bones," he admitted with sincerity. "Do you. Is there any way we can still go on the vacation you planned? I can cancel this if you'd like."

She shook her head slowly. "No. I declined the invitation weeks ago and cancelled the few reservations I had made just in case you said yes."

"Then can we go on the vacation I planned?" He flashed a brilliant smile.

"Will you allow me to review the material you have here and make a few adjustments?"

"What kind of adjustments?" He asked warily.

"The kind of adjustments where I don't have to engage in a…water polo tournament?"

He laughed. "Okay, but I'm drawing a line at visiting more than two anthropologically significant sites."

She smiled and leaned into him, pausing just short of his lips. "Make it three and you've got yourself a deal Agent Booth."

He curved his mouth into a smile before whispering, "Deal, Dr. Brennan." They sealed it with a kiss.


	7. Chapter 7

"_Wherever you go, you take yourself with you. – Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book_

**7.**

A day two thirds of the way through their winter vacation found both Booth and Brennan lounging by the poolside. He was flipping through a magazine to pass the time while waiting for his cerveza to be delivered. She was lying on her stomach, hat pulled low to cover her face, a light blue bikini leaving little to the imagination, and a lime margarita beaded in condensation sitting on the table beside her. Occasionally they would make comments about the weather or the people around them, but mostly they were quiet, just enjoying the heat and the presence of the other.

Bored and thinking about taking a dip in the pool to cool off, he tossed his magazine into their shared beach bag, noticing a copy of her anthropology journal sticking out at an odd angle. He stretched to push it further in the bag, almost tipping his chair in the process. She raised her head to smirk at him in amusement. He shrugged and grinned. As she moved to resume her relaxed pose, a thought that had been niggling at the back of his mind for the past few weeks finally made the way to the tip of his tongue and he stopped her. "Hey, Bones?"

"Hmm?" She adjusted her body to a more comfortable position and peered over at him again.

"You're having a good time here, aren't you?"

She looked puzzled. "Have I appeared to not be having a good time?"

"Yeah. No. No, you seem to be having fun, I just... I haven't been smothering you, have I?"

She struggled to sit up between the loose slats of the chair to be able to see him better and decipher his words. "Smothering? As in depriving me of oxygen?"

He suppressed the urge to laugh and offered a small grin instead. "Nah Bones, as in smothering you with attention? Not giving you enough space?"

"Oh, I see." She cocked her head in consideration. "No, I believe I have had adequate breathing room on this vacation. I have enjoying spending this time with you."

He nodded. "Good, I just. I wanted to check in and make sure. You know, because earlier you said I was being..."

"Controlling?" she offered brightly.

He ducked his head. "Yeah. That."

She studied him closely and was about to speak when the server appeared with his drink. Distractedly, she shook her head in response when he asked if she wanted another. Booth took the bottle and gripped it lightly, picking at the damp corners of the label before taking a sip. "Bones?"

"Booth, I know you are aware of and respect my desire to be independent."

She wasn't asking him, but was stating it as a fact. Despite her sureness, he felt compelled to nod in confirmation.

"I also acknowledge that your desire to do things for me and protect me is not borne out of a belief that I am incapable of taking care of myself, but rather as an indicator of how deeply you care about my wellbeing."

He felt a wave of relief as she stated her understanding of his actions. "I don't just care Bones, I love you."

Her face lit up at his words. "As I love you, Booth," she admitted shyly. They sat, two grinning fools in love. She leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to his lips before retreating to her own chair. She smiled a few seconds longer, then sighed. "But I can be too independent and you can be too caring. We don't seem to be very adept at defining when we've gone too far."

"I gotta admit Bones. I'm never going to stop wanting to protect and do nice things for you."

"I'd expect nothing less from you Booth. But just so you know, I'm never going to stop wanting to do things for myself."

"I know, trust me I know." They grinned at each other again. Eventually, she looked away, tracing her toes against his teasingly.

"You know, it goes both ways."

"What does?"

"I also have the desire to make you feel good and to protect you. Just because I'm not as expressive as you doesn't mean I feel it any less."

He stilled at her admission. Although instinctually he knew she was telling the truth, it was something he'd never considered about her.

"I would do anything for you Booth. I have broken the law, even shot and killed people for you in the past. Why would that change now that we've admitted we're in love?" She let her words sink in and then added, "But I don't have the right to make decisions for you any more than you have the right to make decisions for me."

She shook her head at him as he opened his mouth to respond. "Remember how I told you that I couldn't have a relationship with you because I needed to protect you? I thought I was doing the right thing: that I would eventually crush your heart. But I didn't explain to you my reasoning and I didn't allow you to make that choice for yourself and I ended up hurting you, us, just as badly." She reached out and lightly brushed his knuckles with her thumb. "I did it again when I decided to push you away rather than discuss moving in with you. Or when I ran to Darfur, assuming I knew what you were feeling. I'm sure there are more occurrences that you could enumerate as well. But the point of the matter is that when I take away your right to have equal say in this relationship I inevitably end up hurting you." She chanced a quick glance up at him and explained, "I am trying to learn how to include you in my decision making process. But Booth, it works in the opposite direction as well. Making decisions for me or forcing me into them by taking away all other alternatives? I can't live with that."

Silently, he moved to sit beside her. He nudged her with his shoulder and waited until she looked at him. "When did you get to be the one who knows more about relationships Bones? You're the one teaching me now." He grabbed her hand and threaded his fingers between hers. "I didn't. I didn't even realize how unfair I was being. Even after you told me your concerns about his vacation, I still felt like you were blowing things out of proportion."

He watched a frown start to form on her face and rushed to explain. "No, I mean, I understood that you were upset and that I was out of line, but I didn't get why it was such a big deal until just now. All that stuff about me controlling our relationship: complaining about your work; guilting you; dismissing you. I really thought I was helping you. I didn't bother asking what you wanted. I've always just assumed I knew better. In fact, I'm pretty sure you were protesting pretty loudly and I was ignoring you."

"I don't want to be in a submissive relationship with you Booth."

His eyes widened and he shifted away from her. "Woah Bones. I'm. We're. I'm not into that sort of thing."

She smirked. "So you say. However, you do have some dominating tendencies and as a result, I have had to sublimate my own dominant impulses for the benefit of our relationship."

"Just stop! We are not in some sort of kinky controlling relationship!"

"Then perhaps it is time for you to sublimate your own impulses for me, so that we are on a more balanced footing," she suggested boldly.

"But Bones, I…"

She cut of his protest with a small wave. "I'm not saying you have to control all your impulses, just some of them. If I protest, it probably means there is a reason for it. This is not to say that there aren't times I protest unnecessarily and I will work to curve that impulse. I've come to appreciate several of your alpha male traits. I'm not sure if you've noticed this about me Booth, but I have a tendency to lose track of things outside of my immediate environs when I am working."

"No kidding."

"Occasionally I need to be reminded to take breaks."

"Uh huh," he nodded, unconvinced of her sincerity.

"Booth!"

"What? You're not telling me anything I don't know!"

"Do you know how much I appreciate you for caring where and how I am? For making sure that I have food and conversation and someone to come home to at night? Do you know how much I love the way you care about me? I can survive without you Booth, but I don't want to live without you!"

"Temperance."

"No, you need to understand why I fight you so hard!"

"Hey, I do understand. I do. I just. Can we take this inside?" He tilted his head across the pool. She looked up and spotted numerous eyes watching them.

"Oh."

He smiled at her. "Yeah. Oh."

She blushed and looked away as he pulled her to her feet. She leaned into him, lazily brushing her lips against his, distracting him before giving him a small shove that caused him to stumble. In the aftermath she ducked under his arm and raced away. His laughter followed her across the pool.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Time spent arguing is, oddly enough, almost never wasted." - Christopher Hitchens, Letters to a Young Contrarian _

**(.xxx.)**

The contrast between the heat outside and the air-conditioned room made them both shiver as they entered the room. Brennan tossed her bag on the bed and grabbed a shawl as Booth moved to adjust the temperature. They had remained silent during the walk back to the room and neither seemed anxious to restart the conversation.

"So, where were we?"

"Hmm?" Brennan removed her gaze away from the view outside the patio doors reluctantly. "In an attempt to diffuse the seriousness of our conversation you were about to make fun of me either for liking the fact that you take care of me or for wanting you."

He opened his mouth and she cut him off before he could defend himself. "Do you really think me that incapable of taking care of myself? I'm never certain whether you tease me out of humor or if you actually believe I am that inept when it comes to protecting myself from the dangers of life. I've taken two advanced defensive driving courses, Booth. I have a black belt in three martial arts. I've put in hundreds of hours at the shooting range with various hand and long guns, although admittedly, my experience in non-controlled scenarios is limited to hunting and those few occasions you've let me carry in the field. I've faced death squads, soldiers, and the most devastating examples of human cruelty. I survived quite well in the years before you came into my life."

"I know you can kick ass Bones. That's not why I bug you." He sighed and sunk down to the bed. "Look, I don't know how else to remind you that you aren't invincible. You never listen to me about anything. And let's face it, no matter how much you've learned on your own, you still aren't qualified to drive an emergency vehicle or act as an agent of the FBI."

She whirled around to face him. "Then help me get the qualifications I need Booth!"

"Why?" He shot back. "So that you can take huger, wilder risks?"

"No, so I can back you up in the field! So that I can protect you! I want to be able to help you, not hinder you."

"You help me when you do your thing with the bones."

"So I'm not helpful to you in the field?"

"You are," he soothed. "But you don't seem to realize that what you do affects me. It's hard enough keeping up with a suspect in a firefight or a chase, but keeping track of you, is impossible. You're a loose cannon Bones and I mean that in the nicest way possible."

"Then put me through the appropriate training so that you don't have to keep track of me!"

"Are you willing to put 20 weeks in at Quantico?"

She glared at him.

"What? That's how long I trained before I was considered qualified to work cases. Then I worked with a senior agent for another two years before I was cleared to go into the field alone, not to mention all the other seminars and refresher courses I've taken over the years. You got that kind of time to train to be out in the field?"

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed. "Look. I've picked up a lot of forensic procedure over the past few years. Would you be comfortable letting me collect physical evidence from a crime scene?"

"I don't understand."

"We all have our roles during the investigation, right? You wouldn't want Angela out collecting samples of dirt or Cam piecing together a skeleton, or Jack interrogating a suspect, would you?"

"No. That would be inappropriate."

"Would it be appropriate if I suddenly slapped on some gloves and started handling a body?"

"It would most definitely be surprising. You have shown an extreme aversion to touching remains in the past."

"That's not what I… Never mind. Look, the thing is, I don't touch your bones unless there's a very good reason to, like, they're about to fall, or you ask me to, or something."

"That was very vague, but I believe I comprehend what you are saying."

"So, if I can't help you with your job without your permission, what gives you the right to try to help me do mine?"

Instinctually she wanted to fight him on his statement, but she opted to take a moment and think about what he was saying. Slowly, she released a breath and nodded. "You make a valid point Booth. I had not thought about it from your perspective before. Perhaps it would be best for me to remove myself from the field in the future." She lowered herself onto the bed and played with the ends of her shawl.

"Hey," he said as he sidled closer to her. He propped her chin up with his finger to force her to look him in the eyes. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

She stared at him with stubborn concentration. "No, you are right. I am not FBI. I am a scientist. We should respect each other's skill sets. I have no business conducting a criminal investigation and potentially endangering you and others without proper training, just as you have no business compromising an investigation by completing a forensic evaluation of a body. And since I do not have the time to devote to proper training it would be logical for me to refrain from that aspect of our partnership in the future."

"Can you honestly tell me you would be happy with an arrangement like that?" he asked curiously.

"I…" she sighed. "No, I would be rather discontent with such an arrangement. But if I truly pose a detriment to you in the field, I would learn to adapt."

"I don't want you to adapt or feel discontent or feel any less than you are. You are amazing Bones. Okay? You are not a detriment to me, ever. I just want you to learn to be less impulsive out there. Okay? When the bullets are flying I gotta know that you won't put yourself in danger. You have to listen to what I say and follow my directions."

"If I had done that during the case with Howard Epp's accomplice, your parietal bone would have been fractured by a pipe. If I had been less impulsive when the Gravedigger abducted you, you would have drowned."

"Yeah, okay, but remember that case with that mummy in a Halloween maze? The one where you managed to injure me and leave me short on ammo? I took a huge risk that night, firing through that wall with just one bullet. What if I hadn't gotten him? What if I wasn't able to protect you and that girl? That's what I'm talking about. When I give you a hard time, you seem to work just that much more to prove me wrong, so I thought... I don't know what I thought. Maybe I was trying to knock you down a peg or two. Maybe I like knowing there is something I can do that you can't."

"You are very adept at multiple things I am not."

His previously grim face brightened. "Yeah?"

Softly, she replied, "Yes." She stretched her fingers to entangle with his, but refused to look up at him.

"Bones? You know that I think you're adept at more that studying bones, right?"

When she continued to elude his gaze, he bumped her shoulder. "You _can_ be harsh and cold," he said, echoing her self assessment from months before. "You're stubborn and don't listen to anyone. You can be egotistical. You push people away. You're impulsive and sometimes violent. You never admit you're wrong…."

As he spoke, she tensed and released his hand abruptly. He grabbed it back and held on tightly. "You're also a hypocrite because you jump to conclusions without having all the facts." She raised her head and flashed her glare at him in defiance, trying to escape his grasp.

"But I don't care about any of it. It doesn't matter because you are also warm and loving. You hear everything single thing I say to you and you take it all to heart. You have a brilliant mind and you're not ashamed of it. You're extremely loyal. You're quick and fiery. You always look for the truth even if it proves you wrong." He waggled his eyebrows at her as he noticed her glare begin to diminish. Cautiously he released her hands.

She grumbled, "If people would speak clearly and directly instead of hiding behind convoluted metaphors and half truths, I wouldn't have to try to form my own conclusions."

"Okay, here's a truth. I love all of you. The good and the bad. Always. That clear enough for you?"

She stared at him and nodded slowly, a sly smile forming on her lips. "Yes. However I still believe you discount my ability to take care of myself."

He groaned and collapsed back on the bed, pulling her with him. "So stubborn Bones, so stubborn!"


	8. Chapter 8

"_A ship is safe in harbor, but that's not what ships are for." - William G.T. Shedd _

**8.**

It was only a split second; a moment of hesitation, but in the hours that followed Temperance found herself repeatedly retracing the sequence of events, trying to find out where things had gone so wrong. Logic dictated that the fault lay with the person who committed the crime, but her mind was refusing logic. She blamed herself for insisting on being his partner, for endangering him. He had told her she was a distraction. That she was not properly trained to be his full partner. But she hadn't listened, placing her own contentment over his safety. She had almost gotten him killed, again.

It had been their first confrontation with a suspect in months, since their holiday vacation and conversation. They'd had several successful cases in the interim, but the criminals had been surprisingly acquiescent when it came to arrests, at least until this day, until this case. They had shown up to the victim's house, ostensibly to collect samples for comparison to particulates that had been found on the victims shoes, but more so because Booth's 'gut' had been metaphorically speaking to him that there was something that they were missing, something that could be found in the victim's life. The door had been ajar. That was the first warning that things were not all right and Booth had insisted she remain in the car, which she refused. With a resigned shake of his head, Booth had entered gun first, cautiously clearing the rooms while she trailed behind at a distance, at the very least cognizant of his request that 'guns go first'.

A pattern on the radiator had caught her attention and she had knelt down for a closer look. With the slightest brush of her gloved hand the cover fell to the ground with a loud clatter, causing Booth to whirl back in her direction. "Booth..." she started to say, but then her breath caught in her throat, a man was standing in the doorway behind him, gun drawn.

At her voice, Booth lowered his pointed gun and missed the movement behind him. He started to speak, but noticed her eyes widen. His gut kicked in and he leapt towards her, spinning and raising his weapon in the same movement.

The shot resounded and time slowed as she watched him move towards her, then flinch before flattening her to the ground. Red seeped from his shoulder and she clasped the weapon from his limp hand, firing at and incapacitating their attacker. Her aim was true, so she grabbed Booth's handcuffs and further restrained the man lying before them before shuffling towards her partner, who was, to her relief, pressing down on his bicep and groaning slightly. He was going to be okay. But he may not have been. If she hadn't distracted him...

It was all her fault.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Good cops make their bosses look good, and Hector was a one-man beauty school." – Edward Conlon, Blue Blood _

**(.xxx.)**

Booth was awkwardly opening his office door with his nearly full coffee cup wedged in his sling, when his boss's boss appeared behind him. "Agent Booth!"

Startled, Booth almost dropped his coffee. He nudged open the door, and slowly turned. "Assistant Director Hacker."

The man appeared to be ready to slap him on the shoulder and he winced in anticipation. Realizing his mistake, Hacker paused in mid air and smoothly switched direction to grab the other man's coffee cup. "Here, let me give you a hand."

Booth smiled begrudgingly and nodded toward the desk. "Thanks. Did you need to see me about something?"

Hacker smiled. "I just wanted to make sure that you're doing alright."

Booth stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "The doc says a month, six weeks at most before I'm back in the field."

"Well, that should be just about right."

"Just about right?" Booth echoed.

"Well, with Temperance going on leave for seven weeks, it almost works out. Do you think there's someone else at the Jeffersonian that you could partner with until she's back?"

Stunned, he repeated, "until she's back?"

"Sure, one of the other, what is it you call them? Squints! Yes, that's the charming little moniker you've dubbed them with, isn't it?"

"Well sir, it's more of a term of..."

Hacker waved him off. "Just tell Dr. Saroyan to send me the details. Unless you'd rather I assign you one of the junior agents?" Off Booth's frown, he continued, "Okay, message received, loud and clear, no junior agents. Oh, and please tell Temperance congratulations from me again? I think it's a great initiative she's taking. Should have thought of it myself years ago."

"Years ago," he agreed, numbly wondering if he'd lost his mind as well as his ability to speak.

"Well great. Heal up soon. I can't have my best agent down for too long. Gotta keep those solve rates up you know, don't want my division to look bad." He rapped on the door frame briefly with a quick grin.

Booth watched in silence as the man sauntered out of the room, confusion and panic warring inside.

**(.xxx.)**

_When you have been with your partner for so many years, they become the glove compartment map that you've worn dog-eared and white-creased, the trail you recognize so well you could draw it by heart and for this very reason keep it with you on journeys at all times. And yet, when you least expect it, one day you open your eyes and there is an unfamiliar turnoff, a vantage point that wasn't there before, and you have to stop and wonder if maybe this landmark isn't new at all, but rather something you have missed all along." – Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper _

**(xxx.)**

"You're leaving?"

She jumped, spinning in her chair to face her boyfriend hovering at her office doorway. "Booth! You startled me! I thought we were going to meet at the diner for lunch?"

The agent entered the room and closed the door behind him. "You're leaving?" His voice demanded a response.

She crinkled her forehead and rose to greet him. "Booth?"

"Hacker stopped by today. To make sure that your leave matched up with my desk duty." He didn't look away from her, just stood there with one hand clenched in his coat pocket, the other balled in a fist in his sling, waiting.

The confusion cleared from her expression only to be immediately replaced with guilt. "I was going to discuss this with you at lunch today."

"You're leaving."

"I can explain." She noticed the look of pain on his face but attributed it to his injury. "Would you like to sit down? I'm sure you're..."

He angrily cut her off and paced across the room away from her. "No I don't want you to sit down. I want you to answer my question!"

She followed him, gently placing her hand on his uninjured shoulder, which he immediately shrugged off. She sighed. "Yes. I am leaving, to go to Virginia for seven weeks."

He exploded, "Seven weeks! And you're just telling me! What happened to no running, to discussing these things as a couple?"

"Booth, I am going to _Quantico_, Virginia," she stressed the name. "I will be attending classes and seminars for FBI recruits."

"What?" He felt flattened, confused.

"I only spoke to Andrew this morning about the possibility. You recently explained to me all the ways I am lacking as your partner and after last Friday I am inclined to agree. So I decided to enquire whether additional training was available for me."

His frown deepened, but the knot of worry began to unfurl in the pit of his stomach. "You should have discussed this with me."

"I have discussed this with you and you dismissed my concerns at the time. I distracted you. You got shot. You don't think I'm capable of protecting myself and put yourself in harm's way for me. I can't live with that. I need to be a better partner to you or not at all."

Oh wait. Whoa. He needed to nip this in the bud. "You are an amazing partner Bones. And what happened wasn't your fault. I should have paid better attention to my surroundings."

"No, I am impulsive and a distraction and you don't trust me when the bullets are flying." She countered.

He cursed her eidetic memory. "I also said a lot of good things about you too."

"Yes, but I did distract you and it got you hurt, again. That is a fact. I no longer trust myself in that respect and you never have."

"It's not that I don't trust you it's just that..." He trailed off, looking for a better explanation, not knowing how to express the fear he had for her.

"You don't. I realize this seems out of the sky for you but I really had only intended to inquire about opportunities for training with Andrew. I'm not sure how it happened, but one moment I was asking him questions and the next he was on the phone arranging TEVOC training and setting up a shortened version of the recruit training program. I had no opportunity to discuss it with you."

"You could have stopped by my office afterwards."

She looked away. "You were in a meeting and then Cam called..."

He interrupted her excuses. "You thought I'd say no."

Reluctantly, she nodded.

He sighed. "I can't say I'm crazy about the idea. Seven weeks is a long time."

"I realize that Booth, but seven weeks is much preferable than twenty, is it not? Besides, we have been apart for longer periods."

"Yeah, but." He wanted to point how miserable those longer periods had been, but hesitated, sensing her inability to understand.

"I need to do this Booth."

He sighed. "When do you start?"

"Wednesday. I will miss a few of the introductory discussions, but I should be able to get up to speed. I have a steep learning curve, you know."

At this he smiled, "Oh trust me, I know. Will you have time off?"

"Yes, although I will be housed at the dormitory I insisted that I be allowed to return home periodically."

"You insisted to the assistant director of the FBI?"

"Andrew was very considerate of my request."

"I hate that you still call him Andrew."

"You still address your former dates by their first names."

"Yeah, but Hacker's my boss," he protested.

She raised her eyebrow and looked at him, waiting for the realization of the double standard to drop.

"Oh. That. Well, that's different."

"Different how, exactly? Do you not still call my boss by her first name? And as I seem to recall, you were involved with her in a sexual relationship, which is something Andrew and I did not engage in. Should I hate that you call her Cam? Or that you still engage in that silly ritual where you both ask the other not to use your first names?"

"We don't do that so much anymore."

"It was becoming quite repetitive," she agreed. "But, should I be jealous as you seem to be of Andrew?"

"No Bones, Cam and I, what we had, it's long gone. We're just friends. Good friends, but friends."

"Is that like how we were just partners?"

He gulped, "No."

She smiled and teased, "Are you still jealous that I call Andrew by his first name?"

"No," he muttered. She brushed a kiss to his cheek.

"Now go away. I have a lot of work to accomplish before we meet for lunch."

He stalled despite her gentle push to the door. "You are an awesome partner Bones."

She smiled. "I know, but I can be a better one. Now go. See you in an hour Booth."

"One hour," he promised and left, but not without a backward glance in her direction. She waved at him cutely and he laughed.


	9. Chapter 9

"_The mouth is made for communication, and nothing is more articulate than a kiss." - Jarod Kintz, It Occurred to Me _

**9.**

One thing Booth had come to learn about Temperance Brennan was that she was rarely idle. He'd always assumed that it was a cover; a means to distract herself from the feelings of isolation, really any feelings. But over the months of living together, he had learned she was truly happiest when she had a handful of projects on the go. To him, a bottle of beer and his favorite team on the tube was close to bliss. It took him a long time to understand that having something to occupy her mind and her hands gave her that same contentment. It amazed him and sometimes drove him crazy, but it was also one of those things he'd come to respect in her, albeit grudgingly.

So it struck him as odd the weekend she came home from Quantico early on a Friday night and curled up beside him on the couch. She took control of the remote and settled on a silly, overly sappy 80's movie, refusing to relinquish her grip as he teasingly tried to wrest it away. He chalked it up as exhaustion, remembering his own cadet days. But by morning he was sure something was wrong as she shrugged off his questions and slowly sipped her coffee, staring out the window, the paper forgotten in her lap.

"Bones," he chided softly. She glanced up and gave him a small crooked smile. He continued, "You should go to the lab for a while today."

Her brow furrowed in confusion. "You want me to go the lab?"

"Yeah, you know, check in, make sure the bones haven't walked away, round up the squints and rein them in."

Her expression didn't change. "All these weeks you've been pouting about missing my company and now that I am home you want me to leave? And the bones cannot walk. They are missing the necessary muscular structure and ligaments to properly bind them together to enact movement."

"I don't pout Bones."

The previous whisper of a smile returned. "It still marks a considerable change in your ideology."

"It's not ideology Bones. I just figured that while I went to Parker's game, you could indulge in a little lab time. I know you've been missing it."

"I enjoy attending Parker's games as well Booth. It has been a while since I have been to one."

"I know you do. But we'll spend the afternoon together and that's what counts."

"But..." Had he forgotten that they'd almost broken up over this very issue once before?

He sighed and stood up to put his mug in the sink. "Look, whatever you want to do is fine, okay?"

"I... Okay," she conceded, knowing that her presence would not be missed in the cool, dim skating rink. The interaction between the hockey players and observers was low. "It would be nice to visit with everyone at work. I find that I miss their presence. FBI cadets are not much interested in scientific discourse."

He rubbed his hands together. "Good. Now, I'm gonna catch a shower and..."

She rose up stiffly beside him, cursing the intense training she was going through that left her so sore, but feeling a sudden burst of gratitude as her fingers trailed slowly across his wrist to his hand. "Would you...?"

He smirked and wrapped his fingers around hers. He let his head drift down to brush his lips against hers, which she returned with impatience. He broke away with a gasp and then abruptly urged her forward. "Last one in's a dirty rascal!"

She responded with a throaty chuckle and pulled up against his back. "I will demonstrate which one of us is dirty," she whispered against the back of his ear before biting it with a gentle tug.

"God Bones," he moaned as his hand slid up her thigh.

She pushed away, littering the hallway with clothing as she made her way to the bathroom, erasing his concerns as other pressing matters came to his attention.

He hurried to catch up.

**(.xxx.)**

"_Sometimes, reaching out and taking someone's hand is the beginning of a journey. At other times, it is allowing another to take yours." - Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration _

**(.xxx.)**

In the gray light of dawn, Temperance Brennan watched her partner sleep. His breathing was uneven, interrupted by sporadic snores, which, she suspected, was a precursor to sleep apnea. She had considered broaching the issue of repairing his deviated septum a number of times, but as yet had not determined if the risk was worth the argument that would inevitably ensue. His snoring stopped abruptly and his breathing evened out. Later, she decided. Not now: he would be awake soon and there was a far more pressing serious conversation to be had.

She waited until his hand reached over to her vacant spot on the bed until she spoke. "Booth."

He rolled toward the window and squinted at her. "Bones?"

"I am ready to converse with you."

"Converse?" A yawn split his question and he craned his head to see the alarm clock. "It's early Bones."

"I am aware. I need to go back later this morning."

"But not now," he whined.

She smiled softly and assured him, "No, not now, but soon." She exchanged her seat on the ledge for a spot by his side. She ran her hand down his arm and pressed a good morning kiss to his lips. "I need to talk to you."

Booth hummed and lingered at her lips. "Okay, spill."

Brennan paused to understand his phrasing before following his instructions. "I had a period of time last week, twelve hours to be specific, in which I suspected that I may be impregnated. By you," she specified.

His eyes widened and he leaned back. "You're?"

"No," she cut in quickly. "I am not with fetus." She looked away.

He led her gaze back to his with the touch of his finger on her jaw line. "But you thought you were?"

"Yes," she answered truthfully, reluctantly.

"You didn't want to tell me."

"No."

The penny dropped. "Because it was only a suspicion and you do not speculate without proof." He stated knowingly. Her eyes flickered as she fought to maintain his gaze. He could tell that she wanted to flee. "Hey Bones," he chided softly. "It's okay, I know you."

"I deliberately kept this from you."

"You're telling me now," he pointed out.

"I was... nervous of your reaction."

"You thought I'd be upset?"

She didn't answer him directly. "We had a seminar the other week. They separated the men from the women and discussed gender issues in the workplace. At least it is my assumption that the men also discussed gender issues, but as I did not attend I am not certain that the assumption is correct." She paused. "Did you receive this type of training as well?"

"Huh? Oh yeah. I think we did something like that. Sensitivity and sexual harassment I think?" He was still focused on the possible pregnancy scare, on what might have been.

"You did not discuss the impact of pregnancy on your job performance? Or methods of self defence such as SING? I admit the defence training was satisfying although it seemed to be below the calibre of training required for agents."

The tips of Booth's ears pinked. "Nuh. We basically were told not to hit on female agents, especially ones we worked with. No baby stuff. No kicking guys in the, you know."

She grinned at his discomfort but let it rest in favor of the conversation. "I find I am insulted that they did not cover the same information, but rationally I suppose that male and female agents do encounter different scenarios in this type of work. I have no information on women in law enforcement, but the statistics on the number assaults endured by women in the military are alarming."

He sensed she was about to veer wildly off her original topic, again. "Where are you going with this Bones?"

"There are ten females in the class of sixty-two. I would estimate the median age to be 25. I am by far the oldest female participant. The younger women have begun to look to me for advice, particularly on working in a male dominated profession, and I find myself uncomfortable in the role."

"Why? You're world class forensic anthropologist. You rule your male dominated profession."

"There's this phrase 'work-life balance'. They seem to think I should be adept at it by this point in my life." At this she sighed and looked up at her partner. "Booth. I have no balance. Work has always been my life. Even our life together is based on work. I can't." She paused again. "The concept of bringing a child into our arrangement concerns me. I don't know if I am able to...balance."

"We'd figure it out Bones."

"Yes, I assume we would adapt. However it occurred to me that am already past my prime child bearing years and that if we do choose to have a child together it should occur very soon. There are many things that would have to change if I became pregnant. They were very clear that the Bureau would object to my participating in field activities and I would have to reduce my work hours for proper rest and nutrition. Many of my duties at the lab would need to be re-assigned or curtailed to reduce risk to the fetus. It would effectively end our partnership for at least six months or possibly more, depending on the when we receive confirmation of gestation, and how long my maternity leave would extend. It seems incongruous to consider such an extended leave of absence from our partnership when I am taking this training in order to improve upon it."

Booth stopped himself from immediately soothing her and listened intently. "You're right. A child would change everything. But..."

"But?"

"Pregnancy doesn't last forever. Eventually we could be partners at work again, if you wanted it at that point. I." He grimaced.

"What?"

"I don't want you to get mad at me for this." She looked at him. "Okay. Well, I like to think our life partnership means more than the work one. As long as you're in my life, does it matter if we work together?"

"I would miss working with you very much. I do miss working with you. Don't you?"

"I. Yeah, I do. You make this whole thing...bearable. But at the end of the day if it meant that we could have a kid together? A baby Bones? I'd give up work in a heartbeat."

"That is the problem. You would not have to give up anything. I would have to give up almost everything. My balance would still be unbalanced only with the shift from work to life instead. I want a child, your child to be precise. However, I'm uncertain if I can make the requisite changes to my personality."

"You were worried I wouldn't understand your hesitation."

"You are an excellent father, Booth." He tried to gauge the hidden meaning in her words. There was something she wasn't saying.

"Okay?" He prompted.

She shook her head. "I am being ridiculous."

"Because you're concerned about bringing a child into this world?"

"I should have been happy to think we were having a child."

"And the fact that you weren't makes you ridiculous?"

"Yes."

"Bones, you're not ridiculous."

"You were excited when you thought I might be pregnant, if only for a few seconds."

"Well, yeah, I was. But Bones..."

"You are a good parent. I am... not."

"Not being thrilled the second you consider life changing news does not make you a bad parent Bones. Not caring about your child does. Did you listen to yourself before? You were planning all sorts of ways to take care of your child, even before it was born."

"Because I was concerned about how it would affect me."

"No Bones. Because you were trying to protect it. Wanting to protect yourself as well isn't wrong. It sure as hell doesn't make you a bad anything."

"I find myself torn between what I feel I should do and what I want to do."

"What you should do?"

"We are both of us, in high risk occupations that frequently require long work hours and travel. I'm not sure that such a lifestyle would be conducive to raising our child. Not if we wish to provide our progeny the type of childhood we lacked."

He frowned. "So we change our lifestyle."

"It's not that simple Booth. We like our lifestyle as it is."

"Well yeah, but you forget that I'm already raising a kid in this lifestyle."

She responded without thought. "But you are not actively raising Parker."

Booth's head swiveled towards her in shock, his expression darkening. "I may not be there to tuck him in each night, but have no doubt that I am raising my kid. Actively raising him," he stressed.

"Booth I…"

"No Bones. You don't get to lecture me or anthropologize me on this one. No."

She closed her mouth and stared at him, faintly shaking her head.

"What?" He barked.

"I chose my words carelessly. I was attempting to point out that your situation is different as a non-custodial parent. I did not intend to imply that you were somehow less as a parent because of it."

He looked away.

"Booth." At his continued silence, she huffed in frustration. "Look, our child would be with one or both of us all the time. I know that when you have Parker you take your name off the call list and make him your priority. You are a good father to him Booth. But you would not have that luxury with our child. What if we got a call in the middle of the night? Would you give up your case to another agent? Should I send someone else from the lab in my stead so that one of us could be home with the child? Would we require a full time nanny so that we could both go? I know you disapprove of people with live-in child care. I find myself displeased with each of those options."

"I'm not saying it's easy to adjust Bones."

"Would you take an administrative position if we had a child?"

"What?" She was giving him whiplash with these sudden topic changes so early in the day.

"It would mean more stable hours, less risk."

"Bones, I'm not a desk jockey," he complained.

She nodded in agreement. "So you would prefer that I discontinue our fieldwork. That I focus on the lab and teaching in order to provide a better environment for us to raise a child?"

"Well, that's what you used to do before me," he reasoned.

"What if it doesn't suit me any longer? I used to enjoy going to digs frequently as well."

"It'd be easier for you though."

"No Booth, that's where you are wrong, I like going out into the field. I like knowing the whole story, not just one part. In the lab my scope is limited. I am not a desk jockey either."

"Okay, okay I get it."

She scrutinized his expression. "Do you?"

He shrugged. "I don't want a desk job; you don't want one either; but you think that's what we need to do in order to have a kid together."

"Do you disagree?"

"I. I think we can make it work. Our jobs aren't that dangerous most of the time."

She leveled a stare at him. "Booth. We've both been kidnapped and shot, multiple times."

"Well, we came out of it okay." He attempted to charm her with his smile.

"I believe you would call that luck. We could have just as easily not been okay. I know I've expressed confidence in my ability to rear a progeny alone before Booth. But now. I can't conceive of a situation in which I would want to do it without you."

He tugged her down beside him and gave her a fierce hug. "Aw Bones."

In the quiet, she whispered. "I would give up my job for our child Booth. Would you?"

He hesitated, knowing she could feel his muscles tense. "I'm not sure."

"And that is why I am afraid. You already put yourself at risk for everyone else. For me. I know you would for your child. But you don't consider the emotion risk of your actions. Booth. My parents did that. I. I would have preferred to live a life on the run with my parents than the life I had without them. They left to protect me, physically, but by leaving they still hurt me."

"They wouldn't have been able to live with themselves if you'd died because of them, Bones."

"But the emotional trauma was okay?"

"You were alive to work through it. Dead, there's nothing more."

"You can't hurt when you're dead though." She countered.

"What're you saying Bones, you wish you'd died back then?"

Her gaze flickered away. "There were times where I considered it, but it always seemed incredibly selfish. I know you understand the concept Booth."

He stayed silent and tense beside her. She sighed and decided not to push him on the topic.

"If we have children, I will want to keep them safe. I don't want them to suffer the way we did."

This time Booth sighed. "You can't guarantee that."

She shook her head stubbornly. "I can try. I can reduce the risks. And if the risk is unacceptable, then...Then I don't want a child."

He traced the curve of the muscles in her arm. "You remember Amy Cullen?"

He felt her nod against his side. "Of course."

"Deputy Director Cullen was a field agent like me once. When Amy was born, he worked his ass off for a promotion. He got it too. But he was a damn good agent before that - loved his job. He told me once, when I was struggling with my job and Parker, that he hated being an administrator, but that he loved his daughter and wife more. In the end it didn't do him any good. Amy died. He and his wife separated. Life happens Bones, it doesn't matter what you do."

"What are you trying to tell me Booth?" He shivered at the flicker of her eyelashes against his skin.

"I'm saying there's no way to stack the deck."

"Is that a gambling metaphor?" He grinned and pulled her on top of him. She grunted and pushed herself off his chest. "Booth!"

He tilted his head up and kissed her. When she stopped struggling, he rolled them to their sides. "Having a kid is a gamble Bones. Being in love is a gamble. Getting up each day is a gamble."

"But you're not supposed to gamble any more. You said it made you unreliable. You said it broke your relationships."

"I'm always gonna be a gambler Bones. I've just chosen not to put money on the table anymore, and I deal with the consequences as they come. I've accepted I'm not in control. Can you?"

"Accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference?" she recited the lines from the Serenity Prayer quietly.

He nodded.

She was silent for several minutes, and then curled into him instinctively. "I will try," she murmured across his lips.

He broke away and questioned her, "So a baby?"

She stilled against him. After several breaths she nodded. "Someday," she confirmed.

It wasn't the sunrise that brightened up the room, but his resulting smile.

**(.xxx.)**

_A/N: To those who have taken the time to slog through this and deemed it worth of review: thank you. It means a lot, especially as I know this isn't everyone's cup of tea. I had (have) some issues with the show and this is my way of working it out (because really, isn't that what fanfiction is for?)._

_Standard Disclaimer: The show and characters are not of my creation._


	10. Chapter 10

"_I just want one person I can rescue and I want one person who needs me. Who can't live without me. I want to be a hero, but not just one time." - Chuck Palhniuk, Choke_

**10.**

Booth stared at the papers in front of him, wondering if there was any legitimate way to lose them, permanently. One was a scan of a driver's license; the other a permit to carry and conceal a weapon. He had to review them before sending his recommendation on to HR. Both made his gut writhe uncomfortably.

He stared for another long moment and then, with a sigh, picked up his phone and dialed.

"Hello, Corby Danes speaking."

"Hey Corny!"

There was a pause on the other end of the line and then a one word reply, "Booth."

"You got it Corndog!"

"You got anymore of those, or should I invite my family round for supper so we can all sit on you?"

Booth chuckled. "Lame as ever Corn on the Cob."

The other man switched the subject with grace. "So...What do I owe the pleasure of this call? I'm sure it's not just to make fun of my name for old times' sake."

Booth straightened the papers in front of him. "My partner's applying for a carry permit...and wants to drive my wheels."

"Ah, the bone lady. I thought you said something about skating in h e double hockey sticks before you'd let that happen."

"Yeah," Booth murmured. "Things change. Actually, you might be more familiar with her than you think."

"Yeah?" Curiosity colored Corby's voice.

"She just did 7 weeks in your playground."

"Seven...Oh god, it makes so much more sense now. Cadet Brennan's the bone lady." The pieces dropped.

"Yeah."

"So, what? You worried I didn't treat her right?"

"Nah man, that's not it. It's just. How'd she do, really?" When Bones had walked into his office yesterday he'd been blown away. He hadn't been expecting her for days, and to have her appear... Yeah, the papers that she'd dropped on his desk had been his last priority for the next 18 hours. He smiled a cat and canary smile, remembering the view he'd woken to only hours before.

"Shit man. I don't know. She did okay. I mean, I'd think twice about letting her loose by herself, especially in an interrogation room or hostage negotiation, but yeah, she kinda exceeded expectations, you know."

Oh, he knew, only too well. "Do you think she can do it?"

"Don't you?" His old friend sounded confused.

"Yeah. I mean, Bones, she's always had my back. But she's a little unpredictable. She shot me once. Shot a suspect, punched a judge, you know, that kind of thing. I just gotta make sure, you know? Just like any other junior agent. Only, this seems even more important."

"Look Seals, she did good. I mean, I don't think you've got anything to worry about. She did the test the other morning, you know Hogan's Alley? Lady kept us on our toes. That doesn't happen often. You should..." The man, paused, considering his options. While he wouldn't normally release something like this... the man was her partner. He deserved to know. "Look, I'm going to send you a video link. Watch it, and then if you've still got questions, well, we'll talk."

"Corbs, I..."

He was cut off. "You'll owe me. Just, pay attention, okay?

Not knowing what else to do, he agreed and clicked on the link when it popped up. What he saw was a woman tied up in a small room with a bag over her head.

"What is this?" He hissed.

"Her scenario, I told you."

"You locked her up in a dark room with a bag over her head! Christ man! She's claustrophobic!"

"Yeah, her profile mentioned it. Just watch. It wasn't too bad."

"Not bad." His stomach clenched. "Corbs, she was kidnapped and buried in her car a couple years back. The Gravedigger?"

"Shit man. The guys that drafted the scenario didn't tell me about that. She did okay."

Booth watched the woman struggle. "There were other times she... How long does this go on? This is…."

"Hey, not long. Look. I'm sorry, I really didn't know. But just. Watch okay? You know we have to mess with their minds. You've been through it."

"Yeah, but you didn't make me relive the most traumatic event of my life!" To his relief she untangled the ropes and threw the bag off. She stumbled to her feet and braced herself in a defensive position. The door opened. In seconds she attacked and the intruder was on the floor with restraints.

The man on the other end chuckled. "She took out Bartowski in five seconds flat. The guy's been limping ever since!"

Booth didn't see the humor as his partner slid out the door, confiscated weapon at ready. The screen went black.

"Corbs?"

"Yeah?"

"This all?"

"No man. This was just the intro."

"You sure I should be watching this? I'm ready to shoot you right now."

The man sighed. "Look, I'm sorry about the hood. She barely flinched at that. That's not where..." His voice trailed off, realizing for the first time that showing this to Booth wasn't such a great idea. "Maybe I shouldn't..."

"You can't set this up and let me hang, Corn."

"Okay, just remember, okay? She's home safe. Nothing bad happened."

Booth thought back to the small figure in black. He wasn't so sure about that. "Show me," he growled.

The camera followed Bones as she made her escape from the building, her form and positions almost textbook. He felt a flash of pride before noticing her pause over something on the floor.

His instincts spiked. "What's that?"

There was silence from the other end of the phone.

"Corbin."

"Look, until you called I swear I didn't know about any of this. I just graded her based on what I saw, what she did. I didn't delve in the why's okay?"

"What did she pick up Corbin?" Booth demanded.

"Nothing man, just a piece of debris."

"What kind of debris?"

"Just watch the damn tape Seals and remember I didn't plan this," Corby demanded in return.

The next hour passed in a blur as Booth watched his partner face the obstacles alone. Multiple times he wanted to reach through the screen to give her a hand, but as always she figured her own way through. He gasped when to avoid being detected she actually scaled a building and jumped a roof. His friend laughed at him. "Yeah, we didn't see that coming either. We lost her for a good ten minutes after that one. Got the drop on Jorje."

Jorje was built like a tank. He was easily twice Bones' size.

Booth shook his head and watched with awe. She was searching for something, he could tell, but was mystified as she kept missing opportunities to end the game. She seemed to be stalking her prey as opposed to stopping them.

"What's she doing Corbs? She had the perfect opportunity to nab that guy and she let him walk?"

"You remember that thing she picked up near the start?"

"Yeah?"

"It wasn't debris, not really. It was a belt buckle."

Booths voice took on a warning tone. "What type of buckle?"

"Look, I said I wasn't aware. They brought in some shrink to design the scenario for her. She wasn't a normal cadet. Seven weeks training? Are you kidding me? I figured I wouldn't ask too many questions."

"The belt buckle had a rooster on it, didn't it?" Booth ground out.

"Yeah," the other man said slowly.

"Goddam Sweets!" Booth cursed; the penny dropping.

The video paused. "Booth. I swear I didn't know who she was, but this part ahead, knowing what I know now; it makes a hell of a lot more sense now than it did before."

"Let me guess. They left the buckle there, a dirty trick, trying to see if it would distract her. It worked to a certain degree, but she figured it out. Look at her, she knows it's a game, but she's not taking any chances either. She solved the case 20 minutes ago, but she's taking out threats and buying time until she can figure out the 'clue' that was left for her."

Corby didn't correct him. "They put a guy in a suit with brown hair. Made him play dead. She walked in and for a moment, I thought she was going to lose it, but then she turned steely and just finished it. Found her contact and handed off the information and then walked right off the course.

"Show it to me." Booth watched in silence until the end.

"I think she should get a gun." Corby offered.

"Yeah," Booth agreed absently, his mind still on the man lying in a (fake) pool of blood and the tremor that passed through her before she'd made the connection and walled herself off. She had been successful. She'd collected evidence to put the 'bad guys' in jail and all with minimal collateral damage.

"Look Seals, I'll dig into who set this up," Corby offered.

Booth grunted, "I know who did this."

Corby shuddered at the tone of the other man's voice, thankful it wasn't his fault. "Booth…"

"I'll deal with it Corbs," he said dismissively.

"Okay. Look, you asked if she's qualified, she is. Got 89% on the firearms qualifier, minimums on the physicals, though not the whole 12 points cause she wasn't around long enough. Drove circles around the other recruits." He laughed at the memory of the bewildered driving instructor complaining about the physics lesson she'd given him. "Don't let her near TAC though man if you know what's good for you." Her logic had not been well received, but he figured Booth already knew this much about his partner.

"I saw her papers."

"She should get a gun," the man repeated. Booth nodded, thinking she deserved much, much more. Then released a breath he'd been holding the past 7 weeks.

She had his back. And Sweets was a dead man.

**(.xxx.)**

_A/N: Sorry about the profanity - Corby seemed like a swearer to me! _

_A/N 2: Previous chapter reposted to correct a few wandering sentences. Don't you hate it when that happens?_


	11. Chapter 11

"_Don't get lost. Give it a try. Go find the place that you're wishing for." - Natsuki Takaya _

**11.**

They entered the apartment wearily: Booth dropping his keys on the counter and Brennan abandoning her shoes in a haphazard pile near the door. He loosened his tie with one hand and used the other to pull her with him to the couch. She followed quietly, too tired to protest, but not tired enough to go to bed. She curled into him on the soft cushions and released a sigh. He leaned his head back and closed his eyes for several moments.

"You ever think about it?" He asked, surprising the silence.

"Hmm?"

"Bones." He nudged her expectantly.

"Can't we just go to bed? I'm tired."

"It was one hell of a party."

"Angela helped plan it," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but I wasn't sure. It was Sweets and Daisy." He explained.

"They appeared to be very enthusiastic about binding their familial and legal obligations."

"It's called marriage Bones."

"I am aware of that Booth." She soothed. "Sweet's continues to appear nervous around you. Will you ever explain to me what you did to him when you discovered he was responsible for my Hogan's Alley scenario?"

"Water under the bridge, Bones." He dismissed.

She frowned at him, but said nothing more.

"So?"

She sighed into his shoulder and looked up at him, waiting for him to clarify his question. When he didn't, she asked, "So, what?"

"You ever think about it?"

"It depends on what the 'it' is that you're referring to." She yawned widely and her jaw clicked. Booth winced.

"It, Bones. Getting hitched, married."

"Oh." She looked down at his hands rubbing slowly down to her knee and back.

"Bones," he urged.

"No. At least not in the way I presume you are thinking."

"You presume?" He smirked.

"With you, sometimes." She smiled briefly and then looked down. "I have never dreamed of the white gown and church Booth, even as a child."

He prodded her teasingly, "I thought all little girls dreamed of their wedding day."

"That is a stereotype, Booth. And you very well know that I am atypical from the norm. No. I thought the other little girls were ridiculous when they playacted their weddings or keeping house. It seemed very banal to me."

"That's my Bones. I always knew you were more of a tom boy than a girly girl."

"You are stereotyping again, Booth." She chastised him.

He held up his hands in defeat. "Okay, so what did 6 year old Temperance Brennan dream about?"

As literal as ever, she responded, "I do not remember my specific dreams as a child."

"But in general?" He specified, hoping to stop her from derailing the question.

"I... I believe that dreamed of understanding...everything. I wanted to know why the sky was blue and how water could also be both ice and steam, and..."

"Okay, I get it. You were a squint even then. But what did you want to be when you grew up? How did you picture your life?"

She flushed. "I wanted to be a hairdresser."

He snorted and choked back the full out laugh that was tickling his throat. "What?"

She looked up at him shyly and shrugged her shoulders. "Going to the hairdressers with my mother was always an enjoyable experience. I found the process fascinating." She shrugged again. "I was six."

His eyes glittered in the half-light of the living room. "I get it. I love it. It's perfect."

"What did you want to be as a child Booth?"

"I wanted to grow up really big and strong. And be a hockey player in the NHL. And then play baseball in the summer. And also be a cop and catch the mean guys. And I wanted lots of kids to love and wife who was just as pretty as my mom."

"You were a very ambitious child." She praised him.

"I still am," he added cautiously.

"You still are what?"

"Ambitious. I mean, the sports things, obviously they aren't gonna happen, but..." He let the thought trail off as his courage faltered.

Her smile faded. "You have become a cop that catches mean guys. Ergo, the thing you are still ambitious about is having lots of kids to love, and a wife."

Afraid to speak, he nodded.

She chanced a glance at him and quickly looked away. Softly, she continued. "You want that...with me?"

He nodded again.

She tensed. "Are you. Are you proposing marriage to me Booth?"

He shook his head slowly. "No. I mean. No."

"But you are thinking about marrying me. And then having children with me."

He looked away and nodded slightly.

She grabbed his hand that was still resting on her knee and squeezed it. "Booth, look at me." He hesitated, but eventually met her gaze. "I have never been interested in marriage."

"I know Bones, I know."

As if he had never spoken, she continued. "I have never been interested in marriage, but because of you I have considered it a great deal. So, in answer to your earlier question, I have thought about it."

He brightened, "You've considered marrying me Bones?"

As much as she hated to hurt him, she didn't dare allow his hopes to be raised further. "I don't want to get married Booth."

"But you said..."

"I have considered it. I know how you feel about it. I knew that someday you might find me worthy of being your mate. But Booth. I can't. I just, can't. I don't believe it's necessary. I've tried to rationalize with myself to your benefit, to argue your side of it. It would make you happy, I know it would. I would do almost anything for you. But not this. I love you Booth, in ways I don't fully understand, and in ways that science cannot explain. I love you. However, every time I consider marriage, my heart rate slows and my body goes cold. I feel...blank."

"That's cold feet Bones, that's normal." He suggested, just a hint of desperation in his voice.

"No Booth, it's not normal. I should be excited at the prospect of marrying you. I am excited at the thought of building a life with you and of waking up every day with you that I am able. But the second I picture myself vowing my love and commitment to you in front of the law and your God, I feel nothing.

"So we elope. So you cut out the vows. I'm willing to compromise here Bones."

"You do not understand: it's not about the vows or the location. If it were, and if I thought you could accept how little it all means to me, I would do it. For you. But I feel nothing. Neither joy nor hope. Not the reverse of despair and gloom. Not anything in between. Beyond a vague sense of irritation the thought of marrying anyone, even you, makes me feel empty, impotent if you will. I don't believe either of us would be content entering into such a hollow agreement."

She paused for a brief moment to collect her thoughts and continued. "I know we've discussed the concept of marriage before Booth, but what would _me_ marrying _you_ mean to you?"

"It would mean that we'd love each other forever," he replied promptly.

"And if I promise you this very moment that I will love you as long as I am able? Would it mean any less?

"Of course not! I just. Marriage, it makes it official, you know? Like a law that can't be broken. Like Newton's apple."

"But marriage doesn't keep people from breaking up. Divorce rates are at an all time high. Even the Laws of Motion have exceptions."

"Doesn't mean it will happen to us." He refuted stubbornly.

"If we're that special, then why would it make a difference if we've signed a marriage license?"

"It just would, okay Bones? It just would!"

They were both tense with flushed faces and pounding hearts: neither wanted to back down.

Her voice rushed and heated, she challenged him, "So convince me! Give me a reason to believe! Prove to me what the difference would be! Prove to me that what we have now isn't good enough!"

Just as heatedly, he responded. "Deal. Give me a couple weeks. I'll have you begging to marry me!" He thrust his hand out towards her.

She backed away from him slowly and considered his outreached hand for a long moment. Then, just as slowly, she reached out her own hand and wrapped her fingers around his. "Agreed. You have 2 weeks to convince me of the validity of a marriage between us."

A glimmer of triumph appeared on his face as she tried to fight back the fear that roiled in her stomach.

**(.xxx.)**

_A/N: Reviewers - you rock! And to those of you who were hoping for a Booth/Sweets smack down - I apologize. I couldn't figure out how to write it to fit in with this story. That being said, the issue's not completely dead & gone. It will be...discussed in the next chapter or so. _

_And can I just say how happy I was with Booth in the finale - him telling her he loves her for her despite being frustrated with her way of dealing? It felt like all of the characters were starting to regain the traits that made me fall for them in the first place. Not sure how I felt about the end, but I am looking forward to next season! (__YMMV of course.)_


	12. Chapter 12

_In a relationship, when does the art of compromise become compromising? - Sarah Jessica Parker_

**12.**

"Morning Bren." Angela breezed into her friend's office the Monday after Sweets and Daisy's wedding. When the woman in question failed to respond to her greeting, she settled into the chair in front of her desk and leaned in to peer at her laptop screen. "Bren?"

"Hmm?"

The artist tried again. "Ground Control to Major Tom?"

Brennan glanced up briefly, distracted, "What? Angela."

Finally catching the words on the screen, she took in a large breath. "Oh my God Bren, please tell me that there's a good reason for you to be reading up on the District's marriage laws?"

"Yes. I am trying to determine whether by co-habitating together and being involved in a sexual relationship Booth and I are in a Common Law Marriage."

"And this is important, why?"

"Because I am attempting to find a compromise that will be acceptable to both Booth and myself."

"Did Booth propose?" Her eyes gleamed in excitement that dimmed when the other woman shook her head no. "Then what?" The question trailed off in confusion.

"Why did you decide to marry Dr. Hodgin's?"

"What?"

"Before you met Jack you were not inclined towards marriage, your brief elopement notwithstanding. And yet, you are now married, and apparently quite content with your choice. What changed?"

"I met Jack."

"And?"

"And I fell in love."

"You have informed me on numerous occasions that you have been in love with each of your sexual partners, albeit on short term basis. I use your relationship with Roxie as an example. You broke up with her but subsequently tried to rekindle the relationship. Would you have married her if the option had been available to you at the time?

"No sweetie, no. Roxie and I. No."

"What is the difference in the love you felt for Roxie as opposed to Dr. Hodgins? You tried more than once at both relationships, so being in love with the right person was not the only factor in your decision.

"Roxie and I were young and broke up because we wanted different things. We got back together out of nostalgia more than anything. Jack and I, we knew what we wanted and that we wanted it together, we just weren't ready the first time around."

"But you were ready a few months ago?"

"No."

"I find that I do not understand your reasoning."

Angela laughed. "Neither do I. That's the beauty of love. It defies logic."

"Do you believe that marriage has strengthened your commitment to each other?"

"Considering we weren't even dating at the time? Yes."

"Would your relationship now be different if you had not gotten married?"

"Honestly? I don't know. It feels like it would have been. It feels very… permanent, now. Do you remember when we were first together and I turned Jack's proposal down several times before saying yes?"

"Yes, I recall that I was very confused by your abrupt change of plans and rapid marriage preparations."

"Did I ever tell you why I eventually said yes?"

"No, you mentioned something about phosphorescent shrimp, but you did not explain."

"Oh God, the glowing shrimp! He wrote out 'I love you' in shrimp. I couldn't believe it. He decided that being with me was enough, and suddenly all my objections were gone. He loved me enough not to let my resistance to marriage break us up. It was very romantic in a slightly disturbing sort of way."

There was silence on Brennan's end for a beat before she hesitantly spoke up. "I am not convinced that Booth and I could remain together if I refused his proposal. He would take it as a slight against his masculinity."

"Oh Hun. You know Booth loves you more than just about everything in this world."

Brennan didn't object to the comment, but reined the conversation back into her original intent. "You and Dr. Hodgin's still broke up for a significant amount of time despite your love for one another. Was the stress of you already being married the reason, or was it something else?

"I really don't know. I mean, if the whole Fiji married thing hadn't happened and we had gotten married as planned? I think we would have been well passed the leather anniversary by now."

"Leather...?"

"It's tradition. You're supposed to buy leather for a third anniversary gift."

"Oh yes, it is a symbolic representation of your ties and commitment. The greater the years together the greater the value of the gift..."

"Sure, but what I was trying to say is that I think we would have found a way to stay together. Not wasted so much time trying to figure things out alone."

"So the whole "Fiji married" thing was the catalyst for your breakup?"

"Yes and no, sweetie. Sure it sped things up, but our doubts were the cause."

"And you believe being married would have eased those doubts?"

"It would have held us together long enough for us to work through the doubts."

"For many relationships, it seems that those doubts cannot be worked through," Brennan countered.

"That's why you also need love and communication and fidelity and trust and a bunch of other things. A life with someone else isn't held together just by one thing."

"And what if you have all those things but the marriage? What if you already have the trust and love and commitment? Is marriage really that necessary to bind it all together?"

"Oh Bren, I don't know. Maybe? Maybe not? You have to do what's right for you and Booth."

Brennan looked down and asked softly, "Ang, what if what's right for me isn't what's right for Booth?"

Angela reached out and grabbed her friend's hand gently. "Then you have a choice: one of you compromises or you both walk away."

"I don't want to walk away." The scientist admitted.

"Then you know what you have to do."

**(.xxx.)**

"_Marriage," "mating," and "love" are socially constructed phenomena that have little or no transferable meaning outside any given culture. The examples we've noted of rampant ritualized group sex, mate-swapping, unrestrained casual affairs, and socially sanctioned sequential sex were all reported in cultures that anthropologists insist are monogamous simply because they've determined that something they call "marriage" takes place there. No wonder so many insist that marriage, monogamy, and the nuclear family are human universals. With such all-encompassing interpretations of the concepts, even the prairie vole, who "sleeps with anyone," would qualify." - Christopher Ryan, Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality_

**(.xxx.)**

Dr. Lance Sweets apologetically ushered his patient out the door and turned back to the impatient man standing in the middle of his office. "Agent Booth, I believe we've previously discussed you barging into my office without an appointment?"

Booth shrugged. "And yet you never throw me out when I do."

"It's severely disruptive and unfair to my other patients," the psychologist reprimanded.

The agent ignored him and settled into the couch. "What are you doing here anyway? Didn't you just get married? Shouldn't you be on your honeymoon?"

The other man grinned deliriously and then straightened his features as if suddenly remembering where he was and who he was with. "Both Daisy and I have commitments that we can't get away from at the moment, so we decided to put off the honeymoon for a few weeks. I myself have to make up some time for patients whose sessions keep getting interrupted…"

"It'll never happen again." He smiled insincerely. "Happy?"

"I would be happier if I believed you meant anything in that last statement."

"Sweets, can we get to the point now? I have things to do."

Sweets didn't bother to bite back the sarcasm as he replied, "Sure, don't let me interrupt you."

"Great." Booth tossed an earth shaped stress ball into the air. "Look, I know I said I was done asking for your advice, but I don't have a lot of options, and I know you're good at figuring people out."

"Okay?" Sweets prompted cautiously.

"How do I convince Bones to marry me?"

"I… Wow. You're going to propose to Dr. Brennan? That's awesome!" The deliriously happy sensation returned.

"Maybe. I don't know. That's not. She doesn't believe in marriage right now, so the whole asking thing is a little moot right now."

"Right now? As in you believe there is a point in time where she will change her mind?"

"She never used to believe in my gut or having kids or love before. If I can change her mind about those things…"

"I find it interesting that you believe it is your influence that has changed her."

"Well, yeah. She's basically told me that."

"So, you want to change Dr. Brennan's core beliefs in order to align with your own."

"It sounds bad when you say it like that, but yeah. Only on the big things though. "

"Like love, marriage…religion?"

"Whoa, slow down there! We're not touching that last one."

"Have you ever changed any of your core beliefs for Dr. Brennan?"

"I, um. I used to think that only cops solved murders. "

"Anything else?"

"Nothing's popping up, but I'm sure there are lots of things. Besides, it's not like I came up with this. She's asking me to convince her."

"Agent Booth, can I be straight with you?"

"I don't know, can you?" Booth challenged.

Sweets sighed, knowing he deserved the dig. He persevered, "You want to know how to convince Dr. Brennan to marry you?"

With reluctance Booth nodded, "Yeah."

Lance Sweets took a calculated gamble, knowing it could backfire horribly. "Threaten to break up with her if she doesn't."

The other man's face hardened and he rose to his feet. "This is not a game. I've warned you about playing with us and so help me if you're manipulating us again…"

Sweets shrunk back. "It's not a manipulation." He held up his hands in surrender. "I know my intervention in the past has angered you…"

"That wasn't an intervention - that was cruelty." Booth muttered.

"I am an employee of the Bureau and I had to make sure she could handle things in the field. None of us, including you and Dr. Brennan, were sure. Now we are. It was a necessary evil." He shrugged in defense, "I only participated at Dr. Brennan's request."

Despite the fact that they'd dealt with the fallout months before when Booth had come bursting into his office, there was still a great deal of tension between the agent and the psychologist. It had come close to blows, but Booth had stopped himself when he saw the fear on the other man's face. This was the first time Booth had approached Sweets for anything unrelated to a case in months and he wondered if he'd made a mistake. "I don't know where you get off suggesting I break up with Bones, but it's not going to happen."

"Will you sit so I can explain?" Sweets asked patiently.

Booth reluctantly slid back to his seat. "You better have a good one," he threatened.

"In my discussions with, and observations of, Dr. Brennan over the past several years, I have come to believe that her views on marriage were not formed in the same manner as her previous views on love and intimacy. Those views were developed based on her childhood trauma and fears of abandonment. Her views on marriage appear to have formed similarly to her views on society, anthropology…and religion. I find it fascinating that she is so opposed to marriage when she grew up with such positive role models while you with your less than happy childhood are so for it."

"Okay, enough with the psychoanalyzing. You're saying that her views on marriage are what, science based?"

"Essentially, yes. I believe that it is an issue she has studied extensively and formed conclusions on based on proof, or rather the absence of proof. She has weighed the evidence, so to speak, and has found it lacking. The way she sees it is that it is a societal construct that may be positive for some people, but that it can just as easily turn out to be negative. It's very similar to her agnostic take on religion. Whereas you look at both subjects and choose to have faith in the unknown, she looks at them and chooses not to believe until it can be proven otherwise."

"I still don't see what this has to do with my breaking up with her."

"Take a look at it this way: if she asked you to stop believing in God, would you?"

"No, but she would never ask that of me."

"What if she said that you could still believe in God, but that you had to stop going to church or she'd leave you."

"Why would she do that? It makes no sense."

"Because she doesn't believe in your religion and your belief is getting between you. Would you?"

"I…. I don't. Maybe? If it was that important to her. I'd hate it, but…."

"Okay, look at this way, love is to marriage as God is to church. Take away the church but you still have God. Take away the marriage, but you still have…?" He prompted.

"Love."

"Exactly."

"Okay, now stop and apply this hypothetical ultimatum to getting married. Assume that Dr. Brennan feels about marriage the way you feel about not going to church."

Booth frowned. "So you're saying that the only way she'd give up her stance on marriage would be if our relationship was at risk."

The younger man beamed internally, presenting a more serious façade to the man across from him. "Do you understand now?"

"What if you're wrong? What if she's wrong? What if we have more to gain?"

"What if you're wrong? What if you have more to lose?" Sweets glanced at his watch. "Look Agent Booth, I'm not sure if I've helped, but I have another appointment in two minutes. Perhaps we can schedule an appointment for later in the day?"

The agent was standing and shaking his head before the other man finished his sentence. "No, no. I've got it. I'll figure it out. Thanks for listening," he added grudgingly.

The door closed on Sweets, "You're welcome." He smiled to the empty room.

**(.xxx.)**

_It takes a lot of courage to show your dreams to someone else. " - Erma Bombeck_

**(.xxx.)**

Camille Saroyan studied her old friend for several seconds through the clear panes of his office before lightly tapping on the rim. Part of her was anticipating this conversation with gleeful abandon. The other half was terrified of his reaction to her meddling in his life. She couldn't help but intervene. It wasn't just about him – Dr. Brennan was driving her crazy.

He glanced up at her knock and grinned slightly. "Camille," he mocked.

"Seeley," she acknowledged as slid both her smile and her body onto the chair across from him.

"So, what do I owe the pleasure?" he quizzed.

Her voice carefully controlled, she stated, "You asked Dr. Brennan to marry you."

His feet dropped to the ground from their casual perch on his desk. "Wha... No!" He sputtered. "What?"

"You asked Dr. Brennan to marry you."

"I didn't!"

"You didn't?"

"No!"

"Then why is she quizzing every man, woman, and security guard in the lab about their positions on, what was it? Oh yes, marital monogamy? I had an intern burst into tears in my office after being interrogated about her parent's divorce."

"She's...? Oh, no." He ran his palm over his face. "Of course she's doing that."

"What did you do Seeley?" She raised her eyebrow in amusement. "I don't usually discuss Nikah urfi before my morning coffee."

He raised his eyebrows at the reference, but chose not to comment. "Sweets and Daisy's wedding. I sorta asked her if she'd considered it." He sighed. "She said she hadn't, no surprise. But then I challenged her, and she, she asked me to prove it to her."

"So of course you agreed," she teased knowingly.

"I want to marry her Camille, I do."

"Then I wish you luck Big Man. Just..."

He picked up on her hesitation, "Just what?"

"Just remember who you're talking about Seeley. She is not a conventional woman and neither is your relationship. I don't want to see you hurt again if she says no. You don't take rejection well. You talk a good game, but I know you've got your heart set on convincing her, and if you can't. I fear the consequences."

"I'm not going to abandon her if she says no."

"But can you truly be happy if she doesn't say yes?" His old friend shot back. "Your track record isn't the greatest on this."

"I'm happy with Bones, Cam, marriage or no marriage."

"Then why is this so important to you?"

"I. I don't know Camille, I wish I did."

She smiled and stood to leave. "Maybe you should figure that out before you make your case. And please talk to her. I don't want to deal with anymore crying interns today. Or security guards," she joked.

**(.xxx.)**

_I can't be a wife. I'm not that sort of person. Wives have to compromise all the time. - Sarah Brightman _

**(.xxx.)**

Dr. Temperance Brennan stood in front of the mirror and nervously brushed her fingers across her abdomen, her fingers catching lightly on the taffeta and tulle confection she wore. Tears welled in her eyes as she stared at her reflection.

"Oh, you look absolutely divine! Your finance will love that!" A voice from behind her startled her. She blinked back the moisture in her eyes.

"I am quite beautiful, yes. But I am not engaged to be married."

The saleswoman visibly faltered. "But you hope to be soon?" she queried, her hopes for a sale starting to wane even as she spoke.

"No." Brennan answered matter-of-factly, her eyes still on the wedding dress she wore. "May I have a moment?" she asked.

"Oh yes, yes of course," the woman stuttered.

The dress was only what could be described as a princess dress, straight out of a Disney movie. The bodice was draped with what she thought was called a tender heart neckline. The skirt glistened like the glass in Cinderella's slipper. It wasn't her typical style. She preferred classic, simple lines with dramatic accessories. This was...this was Booth's influence, and Angela's. They were the emotional ones, the romantics. This is who she thought they wanted her to be, secretly, despite their claims to the contrary.

She closed her eyes and attempted to picture herself walking towards Booth in this costume. She could see the scenario quite clearly – the church, the friends and family. Parker would be ring-bearer, or rather, she supposed considering his pre-teen status, his father's best man. Angela would stand for her. Her father and brother would be there, Pops, Jared, Cam and Hodgin's and Sweets and Caroline. Perhaps one of Russ' stepdaughters would be a flower girl. Others would be there that she was not so closely acquainted with, but with whom Booth would insist share their day. Her skin itched at the images. She wasn't certain if it was due to her attire or emotion. Rationally she thought it might be the tulle, irrationally she refused to consider the psychological answer.

She wanted to be unselfish. She wanted to give Booth the vision she imagined for them. But dark thoughts kept encroaching. The vision was a lie. The dress was a waste of money, a silly indulgence. The symbolism of the dress and the veil – it was a cipher. It meant nothing to her. There was so much good she could do with those thousands of dollars wasted. Angela would stand beside her, yes, but she would ultimately hate her dress, looking forward to the party afterwards, perhaps the vicarious thrill of the kiss. Their friends and family would be there to support them, but hadn't they proved over and over that they would be there regardless of the circumstances? Didn't they get together often to celebrate their achievements? Why was it necessary to do this, when she and Booth were already a committed couple, already determined to share their love and their lives together? She would not allow her father to give her away. Not when he'd given her away long before. Parker would be excited, but ultimately bored with all the formality. The church was a joke. Booth's Catholicism would look down on him for marrying her, determined that she was doomed to hell for her agnosticism despite all the good she had accomplished. Forgiveness could only go so far when one did not repent their actions. He would once again have to circumvent his faith for her. She shuddered, it was all a dream, a lie, a fabrication.

The saleswoman entered the room and cleared her throat just as her cell phone rang. She stumbled on the raised platform and moved toward the changing room. "Brennan,'" she answered, slightly breathless.

"Bones?" the voice on the other end asked and she smiled in spite of herself. "Where are you?" His voice was tinged with frustration.

"I am shopping." She answered. "I told you earlier that I had intended to run some errands this afternoon."

"Yeah, but it's been hours." His impatience was almost childlike and she felt herself bristle.

"Is there a reason you called Booth?"

"There's a body Bones. Where are you? I'll come pick you up."

Her heart skipped a beat. He could not know about this. Never. "I have my car. It would be more convenient to meet you there. If you'd send me the address and inform Cam as well."

"But I..."

"Booth," she warned.

He sighed. "Okay," and proceeded to give her directions on how where to find him.

"Booth?" She cut in as his instructions started to wane.

"Yeah Bones?"

"I...never mind. I will see you at the scene soon."

"Okay. Twenty minutes Bones, you got it?"

She glanced down at the dress and quickly up at the mirror once more. "Yes Booth, I have it."

She backed out of the change room in search of the saleswoman. The woman looked at her questioningly, "Will you take it?"

She shook her head. "I have to leave. Can you help me with the fastenings on the back?"

The woman's eyes dimmed, the sale lost. Brennan's own eyes were dark and sad.

**(.xxx.)**

_Disclaimer: If it's not already glaringly obvious - the characters of Bones do not belong to me. No infringement of copyright is intended._


	13. Chapter 13

_To marry is the biggest risk in human relations that a person can take…If we commit ourselves to one person for life this is not, as many people think, a rejection of freedom; rather it demands the courage to move into all the risks of freedom, and the risk of love which is permanent; into that love which is not possession, but participation…It takes a lifetime to learn another person…When love is not possession, but participation, then it is part of that co-creation which is our human calling, and which implies such risk that it is often rejected. - Madeleine L'Engle, The Irrational Season _

**13.**

"Bones we gotta talk."

"Is it time for you to begin convincing me of the validity of matrimony?" She asked halfheartedly.

"Do you have to say it like that?"

"I," she stopped herself from responding and switched to a different topic. "It appears you are planning a romantic evening for us."

Booth grinned and spread his arm out, gesturing to the candlelit table and aromatic meal waiting there. "You like?"

"It is very aesthetically appealing."

"Good, good." He ushered her forward and pulled out her chair.

She hesitated and sat. "Thank you."

He took his chair beside her and began to dish out their meal. Brennan remained quiet, trying to let him take the lead with this night. He tried to cover her silence with his own chatter, talking about the meal and his day, a thin trickle of sweat trailing down his backbone as his nervousness increased. Finally the food from his plate was gone and hers was artfully rearranged and the whisper of music playing in the background surrounded them. "Bones," he said as he took her hand and shifted towards her. She was pale and solemn, but tried to smile back at him.

"Bones," he said again. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to love you and our children and I want to fight the bad guys with our mismatched little family and I just want you. Always by my side. In work and life. And that's why I want to be married to you, why I believe in marriage. I want the whole world to know it. That's the only argument I have. So will you, will you marry me?"

Tears filled her eyes as he spoke. She warred with herself, her beliefs. She wanted him to know that all those things he desired, she wanted them too. She wanted him, she wanted... "No."

Booth stared in shock and dismay. "No?"

She stared back at him and said nothing, unsure of how to express herself without making things worse.

They each waited for the other to go first. The silence grew heavy and long, a menacing stranger between them. Finally she nodded and looked away. Stood. Left the room.

He found her in their bedroom, a suitcase on the bed and the closet open. She was slumped on the floor between the two. "Bones," he voice was quiet, uncertain. "What are you doing?"

"I was going to start packing."

"Why?"

She paused, her hands trembled as she smoothed the folds of the sweater she held and placed it carefully down. "I cannot give you the one thing you need to be happy. I can't," her voice broke and the tears she had cut off so abruptly were threatening again. "You deserve someone who can give you all your dreams. And I... I can't change who I am to be that person. No matter how much I want to. I tried to find a way Booth, I tried so hard. I can't." She angrily swiped away a stray tear that had managed to elude her control. She wasn't this person. She wasn't.

"Bones?"

"You will come to hate me Booth. I would rather. I can't!" Her voice rose with a hint of panic with her last word .

The despair radiating from her was too much for him to bear. "Bones, please." He gently grasped her shoulder and encouraged her to turn. Her eyes were red-rimmed, grey. "You promised you wouldn't run anymore. I'm tired of you doing this every time things get hard."

"I'm not running. I pulled out the suitcase and I turned toward the closet and I realized that I couldn't do it. So I stopped. I don't want to leave you. I wasn't leaving you."

"But you thought about it?"

She glanced away in shame. "I should be able to say yes to your proposal! I should be able to say yes but I can't. I can't say yes. I can't leave. Yet I can't keep hurting you either, don't you understand?" Her anger, quick to burst out quickly dimmed and died again. Her whole being slumped in defeat.

"Bones," he murmured, "this wasn't an all or nothing proposal. I still want you, married or not."

"That's not what it feels like. You promised me a debate. A chance to discuss and argue both sides, but then you leap ahead to a proposal. I clearly don't get a say in any of this. Why do you keep doing this? If you're happy with the way things are, then why do you feel the need to push the marriage agenda? Because we're in a relationship and we're contemplating having children? Because that's the way traditional relationships are supposed to progress? You say it isn't all or nothing, but with your history...nothing is pretty much implied, if not now then eventually."

His jaw tightened. "That's unfair. Those relationships aren't ours. You weren't in them, you don't know all the reasons they didn't work out."

"You loved them enough to envision a life with them, like you envision a life with me. You are the common factor, not the relationship. You want marriage, it's what you need."

"What I need is you Bones."

"Then why can't you be happy with me as I am? Why did you have to push this knowing how I feel?"

"I thought you might change your mind?" He offered pathetically.

She stared at him, judging his sincerity. She believed he loved her. She believed that he was earnest in his desire to be with her regardless of marital bonds. "I had hoped in turn that you would change your mind about the necessity of marriage."

"I'm never going to do that Bones. I believe in marriage and all that comes with it. I always will. But if the only way I can be with you is to accept that it's not in the cards for us, I will."

"I wish I were able to make that kind of compromise for you. I don't want you to compromise for me. It's wrong. I don't want to force you to be something you're not."

"And you think I do?" He asked, incredulously. She had no reply. She did think so. He regrouped. "Look, we agreed to have a debate about this before I jumped the gun. Can we start over? Can we talk about this before making any decisions?"

"I," she stopped herself from reminding him that his request was exactly what she had wanted to do in the first place. "I would find that acceptable."

He settled down on the edge of the bed. "So, uh, how do we start this?"

She hesitated to join him, but his offer was preferable to the floor. "Well, formal debates usually start with the declaration of the resolution."

He squinted across the duvet at her. "So, what we declare our positions? I'm for marriage; you're against?"

She smiled, briefly. "No, not like that. We declare the resolution, 'Be it declared that Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan should not get married."

He brightened, "Oh I get it. Okay. Be it declared that Seeley Booth and Temperance Brennan _should_ get married."

She rolled her eyes, "_Then_ we each state our positions."

"Yep, already got that covered Bones. Now what? Who goes first?"

"The affirmative debater generally goes first, which would be you."

"Oh. Okay. Yeah." He rubbed his hands against his thighs and looked around the room. "Hey, uh can we change the venue? Maybe grab something to drink?"

Brennan picked up on his discomfort and nodded. "We can reconvene in the living room, in...Five minutes? Will that be sufficient for you?"

"Yeah Bones." He stood and looked at her. "Yeah. That will work."

**(.xxx.)**

"_It is better to debate a question without settling it than to settle a question without debating it." - Joseph Joubert_

**(.xxx.)**

For perhaps the first time in the months that Booth and Brennan had been living together, Brennan felt uncomfortable entering a shared living space. The five minute cooling down period she'd agreed to was over and it was time to face the conversation she'd long dreaded. She hesitated at the door, promising herself that she wouldn't run away this time. She reminded herself that this conversation was with Booth and that he didn't want to break up with her. She hoped.

He was sitting on the couch with his head cradled in his hands. He was upset and stressed. While she wanted neither condition for him, she was secretly pleased that she could decode his signals so easily. She sat down across from him and waited for him to start.

Booth scrubbed his face before tilting his head up to look at her. "I don't want to debate this."

Temperance froze. "We are at opposing sides of the argument."

"That's not." He dropped his hands and straightened his back. "Look. I get that we have two very different points of view and that we both want the other to come over to our side. It's just," he sighed. "I hate arguing with you. Bickering, yeah, but not this."

She considered his point. She nodded and slowly responded, "O-kay. But then how do you propose we do this Booth? Debates I understand. I was on championship teams in both High School and College. But this? I don't know how to do this."

"How about we just tell each other what we're thinking? You know, without getting mad or jumping in or leaving? Just talk?" Booth tried very hard to keep any hint of accusation from his voice. They were both guilty of doing the complete opposite of what he'd suggested.

"Are those your only terms? Because while I agree they are excellent suggestions, I'm not sure we're capable of keeping our emotions controlled for the entire conversation."

"Well, how about a time out then? If you feel you're going to burst, call for a time out, no questions asked."

"Like in your football games?" She asked, excited to make the connection.

"You got it." He smiled.

She unclasped her hands and reached toward him. "Agreed."

It took him a second, but he understood. He shook her hand. "Agreed." Then, he laughed. It was a short and tense chuckle, but a laugh none the less. "We can't do simple, can we Bones? Not ever."

"I suppose that is correct. But Booth, I don't intentionally try to make things difficult. You understand that, right? I just prefer clarity."

"I understand Bones, I do. I just wish…Nah." He shook his head. "Not the point. Not the discussion. I'm…" He leaned toward her and looked her in the eyes. "Why do you think I want to marry you?"

She chose her words carefully before speaking. "I think that you believe in God and tradition. I think that you believe that getting married is part of a life well lived. That marriage is something you're supposed to do in order to be a good person, just the same as doing the right thing and working hard and…" She glanced around, searching for a clearer explanation before continuing, "…wearing clothes. I think that you have a very specific view of the stages of human development, and one of the key indicators of adulthood is marriage. And while I admire the strength and conviction of your belief system, I'm not sure if you've ever considered why you choose to believe so strongly."

With great determination, Booth had stopped himself from jumping into her speech to explain. "Just because I believe in God, that I'm a Catholic, doesn't mean I blindly follow all the teachings of the church."

She nodded in agreement. "Yes, you have a very tolerant viewpoint, at least for some things. But you can also be quite uncompromising with regard to other issues. I admit that I have struggled to understand your contradictory nature. I also realize that many times in the past I have offended you. That has never been my intent. I am attempting to understand."

"You can be very insulting sometimes Bones. You called God my 'invisible friend', like I was a child or something. It didn't sound like you were trying to understand me, you know? And you can be quite uncompromising in your own beliefs. Science doesn't explain everything, no matter how much you want it to."

She bristled at his not quite accusatory accusations before remembering their agreement. She counted to five and then responded. "Science hasn't explained everything _yet_, but someday it will. And humans make mistakes. I make mistakes. I have never shied away from admitting when I'm wrong. But….perhaps I'm still learning how to admit when I am uncertain."

The silence settled after her admission. Then Booth shrugged, "Back to topic?"

She nodded.

"Okay, so what I'm getting from your answer is that the reason I want to marry you is because that's what's expected of me. Is that the gist?"

"The gist?" She frowned. "Yes, that's essentially correct."

"What if I told you that you're right, at least partially?"

"I would be, I am, surprised."

"Look, in this world, the one that we're living in, marriage still has meaning. It means that we love each other and are committed to each other and that we're promising to stay that way. And going through the wedding, saying the vows, signing the paperwork? That's the evidence. You know, the proof that love and commitment exist. That's why I want to marry you. I want to prove beyond all doubt that I love you, to you, yes, but also to the rest of the world. It's sorta like that whole 'if a tree falls in the forest' thing. If no one but you and me know how we feel for each other, then does it really exist?" He shrugged in embarrassment, hoping he'd explained himself well enough.

Brennan processed his words quickly, but became hung up on his explanation at the end. "Can you explain the tree falling in the forest quote? I'm not familiar with it."

Of course she'd focus on that, he should have known. "You know, 'if a tree falls in a forest and no one is around to hear it, does it make a sound?'"

"Oh, the philosophical riddle originally proposed by Berkeley. It's like Schrödinger's cat; yes I understand your reference now. And I appreciate the distinction you made about evidence. It's just." She hesitated, knowing that she was going to force the conversation back a step.

"Bones, just say what you need to say. No getting mad or interrupting, remember?"

"I don't want to upset you."

"Just spit it out."

"I'm trying to listen and accept your explanations, but I'm not convinced. Marriage, it doesn't mean to me what it means to you. I'm not sure it ever will. I find it…pointless, at least for myself, although I can see the validity of it in a historical context. Our culture, our society may shape who we become, however I have made a point of not conforming to societies expectations for most of my adult life. I don't. I don't care what the rest of the world thinks of us. Until recently I barely cared what anyone else thought of me beyond the realm of professional standing. And you…. I trust you Booth. So when you tell me that you love me and are committed to me and plan to stay that way, I believe you, in so far as your are capable of fulfilling that promise. I will believe you until the day you tell me different. I will always believe you. And I suppose your insistence on marriage; I suppose it makes me feel like you don't believe me when I tell you I'm in love with and committed to you." In the wake of her own honesty, she felt the urge to flee again.

To both of their surprise, his response was a chuckle. Hastening to explain before the hurt look reappeared on her face, he spoke, "Do you realize that I just argued for evidence, and you argued for belief? This is one hell of a conversation Bones. It's literally turning us on our heads."

Her brows furrowed. "I don't think you understand the proper use of the word literal Booth, but I do agree that this is a role reversal for us. I. I find myself concerned by it."

"You don't have to be concerned about it Bones. We're looking at it from each other's perspective, trying to gain an edge in the argument."

"I thought you said you didn't want to argue."

"Okay, I said argue, but I meant fight. You know the difference." She gave him a slow nod in response. "Okay. You've told me why you think I want to get married. Now, can you tell me why you don't want to get married? And I don't mean I want an anthropological rundown. I want to know what you, Temperance Brennan, think."

Her sigh was audible. "Will you allow me some leeway in which to explain myself? I need to clarify a few things with you first to make you understand my reasons."

"No anthro mumble jumble?" he questioned.

She shook her head before answering, "No."

He picked up his beer bottle and took a sip before pointing it at her. "Okay, clarify away."

Taking note of a second bottle on the table, she reached to grab it and satisfy her own craving for a break. She picked at edges of the label as she carefully asked, "Marriage does not prevent people from breaking up. Would you agree?"

He watched her fidget. "Well yeah, the divorce rate would seem to back you up on that one Bones."

"But you believe that a marriage between you and me would provide additional protection against us failing? That because of our personal ethical codes, we would not consider dissolving our union when things became difficult?"

"Something like that, yeah, I guess."

She studied him for several moments. "I have always thought you were a romantic, but I may have been mistaken. Perhaps I am the romantic," she mused.

He laughed. "What? No. Bones, you are many things, but romantic? Just, no."

She smiled at him as she slowly shook her head in disagreement. "No. You're saying that we need the law to keep us together. That is not romantic."

"That's not what I'm saying!"

"No, it is Booth. Just let me present you with two scenarios first before you reject this idea. It's not fully formed yet, but I think it has some validity. Please?"

"Okay, okay, give me your scenario…"

"All right. The first scenario is this: a couple falls in love and gets married. They form a life together. They combine their financial resources and buy a house and eventually have kids. The kids get older. They get older. The initial passion dims. They have fights. They struggle. But they stay together. Why? Because it's too much work, too much money to go through a divorce. Maybe things do get better. Maybe they do get 50 years together. Maybe they are happy. Maybe they're miserable because they're trapped."

"Bones…"

"Just hear me out Booth, please," she pleaded. "The second scenario is this: a couple falls in love. They form a life together. They combine their financial resources and buy a house and eventually have kids. The kids get older. They get older. The initial passion dims. They have fights. They struggle. But they stay together. Why? Because they choose every day to remain committed to each other. They decide that the life they've built together is worth the struggles and fights and diminished arousal. They have 30, 40 or 50 years together. Or they don't stay together and find happiness elsewhere. Why? Because the life they built together isn't worth it. Don't you see Booth? Choosing to love each other every day, without being coerced into it? That to me is romantic. And if someday in the future we don't truly love each other enough to share the bad times as well as the good, then why would being married have any bearing? I wouldn't wish that type of unhappiness on anyone, especially you."

Seeley Booth stared at the woman he loved, and realized in that moment they he'd fallen just a little bit more in love with her. She made it sound so…simple. He wanted to get married, he did, but.… "I love you Bones."

She smiled that smile that always squeezed his heart and made him want to give her the world, "As I love you Booth." She crossed the space between them, curling her whole body against his frame. Their lips met. His fingers cradled the nape of her neck. Her lips whispered across the scruff of his jaw line. It didn't end there, and for a long time the words between them were forgotten.


	14. Chapter 14

"_True love is taking the risk that it won't be a happily-ever-after. True love is joining hands with the man who loves you for who you are, and saying, "I'm not afraid to believe in you." - condescension Lockwood, I Do (But I Don't) _

**14.**

Hours later she stirred in his arms with a shiver. The lights were bright and his weight pinned her to the couch. She angled her arm to reach for the throw on the back of the couch, accidentally creating friction in a sensitive spot between them. His breath hitched and huffed and then he tightened his hold, effectively trapping her in place. She struggled briefly in panic and they both jolted into awareness.

"Ow Bones!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she soothed. "I didn't intend to hit you there."

"You almost put me out of commission."

"You're being over dramatic. I hit your thigh."

"Your knee was really high."

"You were the one holding it there."

"I was sleeping!"

"I was trying to grab a blanket. I'm cold."

Feeling slightly chagrined as he realized their position, he loosened his hold and reached for the green blanket behind him, pulling hard to release it from where it was pinned behind them.

She smiled gratefully and accepted his offering, wrapping it around them both.

"Better?" he grinned.

"Much," she purred as she burrowed under the warm and into his grasp again. "So much better."

"Hmm," he agreed, enjoying the way her fingertips traced against his skin.

Minutes passed and he'd begun to fall back to sleep when she spoke up. "Booth?"

"Yeah Bones."

"Can we finish our conversation now?"

His voice was incredulous. "Now?"

"Uh huh. I am concerned that if we don't have this discussion it will fester."

"Ugh. Fester? That's not a good word. Makes me thing of pus and blisters popping."

She felt him shudder against him and hid her smile. "I think that it's a good metaphor if that is what it makes you think of. I don't want our relationship to burst under pressure, to ooze out and get infected."

He lifted his head to look at her, "Really Bones?" Then he sighed and pressed a kiss against the tip of her nose before settling down. "Okay, but we stay here, like this."

"Booth?"

"Yeah Bones?"

"Why did you think I didn't want to marry you? Before I explained myself, I mean."

He hesitated, but then reminded himself that they were going all in, no shortcuts, and no dishonesty. "I thought you were afraid."

"Of what?"

"Being trapped? Being forced to admit your feelings to others. Letting me in. Not having an escape route." He rambled off the top four things off his internal list.

She looked away from him. "You still think I'm going to run away."

"I uh, yeah, I guess I do," he admitted.

"Will I ever be able to convince you otherwise?"

"Yeah, you will, you are every day. I just have a hard time with it, and it's not just because of you, you know?"

"I don't understand. What other reasons are there?"

"You're not the only abandoned child in this relationship Bones."

"But you had your grandfather."

"Yeah, I had Pops. But that doesn't mean that losing both my parents didn't have an effect on me."

She hesitated. "I suppose that is true. I hadn't really thought of it that way before. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry Bones. Besides, it's not like I've ever talked about it with you before, have I?"

"No." She offered quietly, "You don't have to."

"But I should. I want you to be my wife Bones, but more than that I want to share my life with you like you said. And in order to do that I have to share my past as well as my future."

"Your past doesn't matter Booth. Only who you are now."

"But my past has an effect on who I am now. It has an effect on our relationship, especially if it won't let me trust you."

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh." He nuzzled her neck and she rubbed his bicep gently in response.

"Is it wrong that I am comforted that you also had a difficult youth?"

His breath rushed through his nose in a snort. "A little egocentric maybe, but not bad. I understand. It's nice. To have someone who gets it, who's been where you've been."

"We've been many places Booth, where…oh. Another expression?" His silence was her answer. "We responded very differently though. I push people away and you hold them close."

"Close but not too close." He murmurs into her hair.

"What does that mean?"

"It means that. Look, I have a lot of friends, right? I get along with lots of people. But look at me Bones; I don't have any close friends, not really. Not until I met you. A few of the guys from my Ranger days, but we don't really keep in touch. Hell, I'm not even close with my own brother."

"You have me. You have Cam and Sweets and Caroline. You even have Hodgin's and Angela. I think we all consider you a close friend."

He pressed a grateful kiss against her temple. "Thank you."

"I'm only telling the truth."

"Yeah, but..." He sighed, knowing she wouldn't really understand. "I still don't let them, you, anyone get too close."

"I don't understand."

He shifted and felt her soft skin brush against his arm. He angled his head to look her in the eye. "What have I told you about my past?"

She was silent a moment, calculating her reply to his request. "The first thing you told me was how many people you'd killed. You've told me that your mom wrote jingles and your dad flew planes in the war before becoming a barber. You told me your dad drank. You confessed to Dr. Sweets and I that if it weren't for your grandfather you would have killed yourself as a child. That's it I think. Oh. You also told me about your friend that you named your son after, Corporal Parker."

His laugh was without humor. "Seven years and I've told you less than a handful of things about my history, and most of them were about other people. Doesn't that seem odd to you?"

"No," she responded simply.

"No?" he asked incredulously. "It doesn't bother you that I know so much about your childhood and you know so little about me. You don't find it unbalanced?"

Temperance was quiet for a while. "I. I used to find myself annoyed with you that you expected me to share so much when you shared so little. It felt unfair that you could pick and prod around my painful memories, but yours were off limits. But, with my mother's case...my father being, doing what he did... You didn't have much choice to be involved. Your past has stayed in the past, and you seem content to leave it there. Why should I drag it into the open? I believe it would be a painful discussion for you, and I, I don't like to see you in pain. So no, I'd rather not know. Not if it isn't something you want to share." She glanced up at him shyly, afraid she'd said too much. She traced a finger over his acromion, feeling the muscles ripple beneath her touch.

He reached up and grabbed her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "You make it less painful. The things I've told you. You being there, listening to me? It's helped."

She moved so that they were facing each other, but said nothing, only squeezing his hand back.

"Bones?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I tell you about why I want to get married?"

"Of course. I would like to understand your point of view very much," she said softly.

"When I was little, before my dad really started drinking? Before my Mom decided to pursue advertising full time? They were so in love Bones. They were the kind of happy together that people write love songs about. They didn't have much. Things weren't always sunshine and roses. But when Dad would get home? The smile on my mom's face was breathtaking. It made me smile too, and laugh. And he'd come in and twirl her around and they'd dance in the kitchen and kiss. And I was just old enough to be embarrassed, so I'd groan and cover my eyes. Dad would ruffle my hair and tell me that I'd get it one day, when I was grown up and had a beautiful woman like my mom as my wife. And it just was. It felt like everything was right."

"That is a very good memory Booth."

"It is. I just. I wanted that. I didn't understand it, but I knew, just knew that someday I was gonna have a life like that. And when things got bad, I kind of clung to that ideal. Thing was though, I didn't realize it at the time, but my mom and dad weren't married."

"They weren't?"

"My mom, she wasn't exactly the religious type. They got together just after dad got back from 'Nam. Was part of the free love crowd. My dad wanted to get married when she got pregnant with me, but she... she didn't want that. I don't know why. I was too young and then Pops, well, he thought it best to let old demons lie."

"Not getting married was a demon?"

"In my neighborhood it was. The other kids, I must've been eleven or so, and one of them heard his mom talking about my parents. He spread it all over the neighborhood that my mom was, well, less than virtuous, and he and I got into this huge fight. Black eyes, bruised knuckles, a crowd of kids cheering us on. I got in so much trouble. Pops tried to talk it out with me, but I wouldn't say much and that was all she wrote."

"All who wrote, your Mom?"

"No, it's an expression, means that's the end of the story."

"But that's not the end of your story. You grew up thinking your parents were in love and married, and then you found out they weren't?"

"Yeah. Things had gone bad already. Mom was gone. Dad was...not there. Finding that out, made me think I knew what had gone wrong."

"Did you ever find out what went wrong?"

He shook his head. "No. But I did talk to my Mom about it once, when I was older. I asked her why she left."

Brennan was silent, but stared at him with a questioning look.

"What?"

"I always assumed that your mother had died from the things you had told me."

"No. She got a job offer in another city. Decided that she didn't want to deal with my dad's PTSD and drinking anymore. Was tired of playing mom. At least that's what she told me later. She said that she was sorry for being so selfish." He shrugged. "She died when I was on tour in Iraq. Cancer. I never told her I forgave her."

Her gaze with full of sympathy and open curiosity, "Do you?"

He leaned back his head into the couch cushion. "Some days."

"And others?"

"I get angry. I realize that I'm waiting for the people in my life to leave me, and I get angry."

She lifted her hand and ran it gently through his hair, gently palming his scalp with her fingers and brushing her thumb against his cheekbone. "I wish I could promise you that I'll never leave, but I can't do that. Life is too unpredictable. Our jobs..." her voice trailed off, leaving him to fill in the blanks. "And I do fear that I will not be what you need in the long run. However, I cannot contemplate a scenario in which I'd willingly leave our child, just as I cannot contemplate not loving you."

He pressed his lips to hers.

When he retreated, she continued. "I find that I do not like your parent's very much."

He shuttered his eyes to prevent her from reading his emotions. "Eh..." He shrugged, fighting the urge to defend them despite his own feelings on the matter.

"I do not mean to insult them Booth. They obviously had good qualities in which to raise a man like you. But I know what it's like to feel unwanted by those you love and I hate that it is an experience we have in common. I wish I had known before."

"I didn't want you to know."

"I never understood why you encouraged me to reconcile with my father."

"Because he didn't want to leave you and because I didn't want you to have the same regrets that I have."

"Your father didn't leave you willingly, you know."

"What?"

"Your grandfather, he told me. He wanted you to know, but was scared to tell you. He told your father to leave. He saw him beat you and he told him to go. Your father left. He couldn't keep you safe. Your grandfather could."

"I don't know what to. Pops told you that?"

"Yes, he was quite worried that you wouldn't understand."

"Bones, I."

"We don't have to discuss this right now. I just thought you needed to know."

"Can I?" He reached his arms out and she nodded, snuggling into him.

"You are loved, Booth," she whispered.

His eyes stayed open for a long time before he too drifted off to sleep.

**(.xxx.)**

"_A great marriage is not when the 'perfect couple' comes together. It is when an imperfect couple learns to enjoy their differences." - Dave Meurer_

**(.xxx.)**

The sun was nearing its apex before Booth finally woke the next day. He was strangled in the throw they'd used to cover themselves the night before and Bones was missing. His back ached a little as he rose to a sitting position and looked around the room. The apartment was quiet. A note sat on the coffee table beside him informing him that Brennan had lunch plans with Angela. He groaned and shuffled towards the bathroom.

A shower and two aspirin's later his head was feeling clearer, but his thoughts kept drifting back to his and Bone's 'debate' that wasn't. He felt a wave of conflicting emotions wash over him and tried to push them down. He wandered aimlessly from room to room before deciding to throw on his shoes and go for a run. His feet pounding on the pavement and the rush of air in his lungs drowned out the emotion, but didn't stop his mind. His thoughts whirled, refusing to settle in any one direction. Sweat trickled down his back. He ran until he was tired and then turned around and ran some more.

Bones was still gone when he got back, this time a text on his phone informing him that she was meeting Cam at the Jeffersonian for a budget discussion at one. A second text at two indicated that she'd been sucked into more interesting work at the lab and wouldn't be home for hours. Booth dropped his phone in frustration and flicked on the television. He toed off his shoes and leaned back into the cushions.

He awoke with the rattle of keys in the door to darkness. The hinge creaked open and the tap of heels entered the room before a pause and the door creaking close. The steps continued across the room before hesitating at the couch. "Booth?" Normal people would have whispered; only Bones would have asked in a regular voice, neither loud nor softened with the time.

He struggled upright for the second time that day. "Yeah Bones?"

"Oh. You're awake?"

"Yeah, shouldn't I be?" He squinted toward the clock.

"It's quite late." He heard the clunk of her heels and felt the couch settle beside him.

He leaned in for a kiss. "Mmm. I missed you today.

She hummed then leaned back. "I was quite busy."

"You weren't avoiding me?"

She looked away.

"You were avoiding me?"

She nodded. "In a way. I thought we both could use some time to corral our thoughts."

"Did you?" He was genuinely curious.

She shook her head. "No. Nothing's more distinct today than it was before we spoke. You?"

His response mirrored hers.

"I will marry you if it will make you happy," Brennan offered, hesitantly.

Booth's heart leapt and fell in an instant. "Would it make you happy?"

"I am sure I could learn to accept it. Angela says that one has to compromise in relationships. And she appears to be quite content in her marriage with Hodgin's, so I suppose it wouldn't be that bad. I would adjust."

Thud. His hopes drooped. "No Bones, I can't let you do that. I want you to want to marry me. Not feel guilted into it because your friends and boyfriend make you feel like you should."

Her expression fell as she realized her attempt to please him had failed. "Isn't that what you would be doing if you gave up on marrying me?"

"Look, I'm not saying I'm going to stop wanting it. I still think that being married means something, that it provides a safety net during the tough times. But I did some thinking today. You're a lot like my mom, you know? Career minded, intelligent, driven."

She stilled beside him. "One could say that you have a type. Your previous girlfriends that I have met have all shared those characteristics. Perhaps that is why they failed, because as much as you admired them you also faulted them for being like your mother."

His temper flared at her comments and he forced himself to stay quiet as she spoke.

"I cannot right the wrongs of your mother for you Booth... It is unfair for you to compare us. I am not her."

"Geez, are you Sweets now? I know you're not her, or any of the rest of them Bones! Geez." He grumbled.

"Then what was the purpose of the comparison?" She asked calmly.

"You have qualities that I admire in women, yes. But there's a difference between you and her. And I guess all my ex's too now that you've so thoughtfully pointed it out."

"Which is?" she prompted impatiently.

He grinned, "You need me."

"What?"

He could sense her coiling up to attack in rebuttal and jumped in to explain. "I can you give something that other's have not been able to give you. A home. A place to feel safe. Other's have tried, but I'm the only one you've let in." He gave her a knowing look as she struggled to respond to his assertions. "I know, you don't _need me,_ need me. But you want me. You want what I can give to you. The other's, my mom, they didn't want what I had to offer. You do."

"Booth, I don't..."

"You give me something no one else can, you know that Bones, right? You know what you mean to me?"

She gaped at him, uncertainty flashing in her eyes.

"You have faith in me, you love me, and you want me. That's everything Bones."

"Is it enough?" She asked timidly.

He tilted his head to look her in the eyes and nodded. "More than." He swallowed. "Is it enough for you?"

She blinked and took him in, the stubble resting on his chin, his strong body, the sincerity in his eyes, and answered, "Always."

_**The End.**_

_**(.xxx.)**_

_A/N: Whew, glad that's over! I just wanted to send my sincerest thanks to all of you who've taken the time to review, or favourite or alert this story and apologise for not taking that same time myself to respond individually - I never quite know what to say except for thanks. Delving into this fandom has definitely been a learning experience! _

_I know a lot of you will be disappointed with this end, but hopefully a few of you will find some satisfaction in it. I debated the direction of the story several times - was I being too hard on Booth? too easy on Brennan? The traditional part of me expected this to end in marriage, but the independent, single woman in me kept asking why? Why do we expect that relationships have to end with 'I do's' in order to be happy? Why is it that Booth's honest belief in matrimony trumps Brennan's equally honest disbelief in the same? I just...chafe at the thought that just because Brennan doesn't immediately conform to Booth/Angela/et al's point of view she is somehow in the wrong. (Which is not to say that she can't be wildly wrong and offensive at times, but at least she usually admits the errors of her ways, eventually). Anyway...I digress. The thing about compromise - sometimes it's not about meeting in the middle, sometimes it's about knowing when to give way to the other person. Sometimes compromising your beliefs isn't a bad thing - sometimes it gives you things you never expected. That's what I wanted to accomplish with this fic - to show how Booth & Brennan learn this lesson. I'll leave it up to you to decide whether I succeeded or not._

_And for those of you still hoping for the more traditional happily ever after? Stay tuned for next season - I'm sure you'll get your wish sooner or later!_


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